A lone Fox
by Catnipisnotonfire12
Summary: No one knows much about the mysterious foxed-faced girl from district five except that she's clever and not one to attack. This is her side of the story, who she was and what was taken from her when she left her home of district five to compete in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games when she was just 15. Contains Foxface's death, and an Alternate Ending.
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

**Foxface: Another Side of Me**

**No one knows much about the mysterious district five, foxed faced girl except that she's clever and not one to attack. This is her side of the story, who she was and what was taken from her when she left her home of district five to compete in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games when she was just fourteen. This isn't just the story from her point of view though, this is the story of her decisions and how she learns a cause for something that will one day change the world matter more than her own life. **I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the characters in it. All rights go to Suzanne Collins****

**Please review! Even if you hated it! I'd love to know how I could improve! **NOT A SYOT NEVER HAS BEEN A SYOT****

CHAPTER ONE

I roll out of bed. Literally, I roll over and fall face-first onto the cold, hard floorboards. My hair waves teasingly in my face, my wild red curls scattered everywhere. I didn't want to move, but reaping day was calling. If I could avoid it, I would, not out of laziness, out of fear. Believe me, it's not nice, panicking as the female name is drawn – whether it's going to be you, or a friend, even a relative – it's hardly a relief when it's not you either, as your heart goes out to the poor, panicky girl and boy that have been reaped. It's Hell, knowing that at least one of them will not be returning home.

"Foxy, time to get up. Come on, I've got some bread from the bakery. Fresh, I think it's still warm. Special treat," that woke me up – I could practically smell the warm loaf from here now I thought about it. My mother retreated from the room, and I woke up to see my reaping outfit sprawled across a chair. I make my bed in solemn silence before quickly doing up my blouse, pulling on an itchy brown skirt and some simple shoes. I grin when I see the loaf, warm and crusty in the middle of the table. I scoop my hair up into its usual bun as mother begins to cut the loaf.

Rosie's grinning; they all are, trying to think of anything but reaping day. I copy my families grin as I'm handed a slice of bread. I savour the first bite, chewing slowly despite my brain telling me to stuff it all in about three seconds.

"Best bread ever." Rosie grins

"Well, there isn't much competition. I've heard that the only bread worse than District Five's is District Twelve's" Father says

"Still the best bread ever." I back Rosie up, Father grins, enjoying his own slice.

"We've got another loaf for tonight, celebrating" another bad thing about the Hunger Games. The celebration. Everyone's out, celebrating their own, their child's or their siblings safety for another year, but there will always be two houses shut away from the world – weeping and crying as their child rides to the Capitol. I try to sound enthusiastic anyway.

"Sounds yum, see if we can heat it up." I dream

"We could try putting it by the fire," Mother suggests

"FoxFeature's plans never prevail. It'll burn; just put it beside the radiator." Rosie says. Begun to wonder what's up with the whole 'Foxy' and 'FoxFeatures' thing? I guess you need to know. I am the master of running, climbing trees, basic agility. I was told I looked like a fox when I was around three-ish age, well once one person noticed, everyone in district five noticed. My fiery red hair and matching ginger freckles didn't help matters either. Of course, now everyone knows me as some sort of a variation as a Fox – Foxy, FoxFeatures, FoxGirl, even some disgusting boys call me their Foxy-lady (followed by me being pulled apart by peacekeepers as I begun to attack them) you name it. The only person who calls me my original name is my Father.

"If it's working," Father interjects – and we let the conversation drop as the clock strikes eleven. Ten minutes till the reaping.

There's a knock at the door, and my friend, Evanna, steps in – wearing an identical outfit to me and beaming the way she always does.  
"Hey Foxy!" She grins, around her, you'd never know it was reaping day. She's this ball of excited energy. Well, except during the actual reaping, it's impossible to be happy then.

"Hey Evanna," I say back, she pulls me outside and brushes her blonde hair out of her face, her blue piercing eyes staring at me.

"Do I smell bread?" She asks, her eyes lighting up.

"Don't get your hopes up Ev, we finished it. Should've come earlier, but there'll be some at the celebrations tonight, proper bakers bread." She grins

"Yum!" She exclaims, linking her arm through mine. Her smile falls, the twinkle in her eye dying.

"We'd better go now, hadn't we?" I nod wordlessly. She loses the bounce that's usually in her step as she; I and my family make our way to the stands.  
"How many times is your name in this year?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"Twenty-seven. Guess the odds aren't _exactly _in my favour," she sighs – I feel for her. She's a year older than me, therefore more votes, and she has to take the tesserae – I don't, though I have a feeling I will have to next year, we're running low on cash since Rosie was made redundant.

"You'll be fine," I lie; twenty-seven is pretty high, especially against my mere four. I'm fifteen, the amount of times your name is entered goes up one each year till you're too old to be reaped (or, God forbid, you have been reaped.) And the Tesserae adds alot of points onto Evanna's original five.

We reach the stands; Mother, Father and Rosie go off to one side to observe the reaping without being in the actual stands. Evanna and I have to separate once we've signed in, a look of hope and fear exchanged between the two of us before we're forced away by peacekeepers. She stands with the sixteen year olds; I'm with those that are fifteen.

Effie Trinket, the escort of district twelve and the reaper of every district waddles on stage in ridiculously high heels, a bright pink wig and make-up that ages her terribly.

She begins to speak in her high, odd Capitol accent. "Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! To the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games! Happy Hunger Games and, May the odds be _ever _in your favour!" She points to a video that explains to us how much the Capitol cares for us, and how the dark days were wrong.

OK, so they care for us by killing twenty three of us a year? Destroying families? Punishing us for something that happened seventy-four years ago? I don't know about you, but personally that doesn't exactly make my top ten list of good caring.

The video shuts down and Effie Trinket starts up again.  
"Now for the reaping! Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour! As usual, Ladies first..." Her sharp pink talons pick up a slip of paper from the reaping bowl, and I shoot a worried glance to Evanna.

"_It'll be fine!"_ I desperately want to tell her, but my heart is hammering against my chest.

"The female tribute with the honour of representing District Five in the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games is..." She opens the slip and squeals;

"Jessica Roberts!" Everyone looks around in confusion. Who? I hear little whispers of puzzling around

"Come now dear, where are you." Sudden gasps are shot around the stands as the chosen tribute makes her way to the stage.

I shoot a glance at Evanna as I stand next to a beaming Effie Trinket. I see her mouth 'Foxy...'

This breaks me inside.

**I hated the old chapter, so it's been updated! Tell me your opinion on this new first chapter. CHAPTER TWO SHALL ALSO BE EDITED MOMENTERILY. **


	2. Chapter 2: Goodbye

**CHAPTER TWO: GOODBYE **

****I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS** **

I pay little attention to the boy who is reaped, I just do my best to avoid Evanna's gaze, crying will not do. That will brand me as weak when the reapings are replayed tonight. But I collapse into tears as soon as she rushes into the justice building not five minutes after.  
"Oh Foxy!" Is all she can say.

"You have to win!" She says as firmly as one can when your voice is shaking with tears, I hug her tight.

"How can I? I can barely chop an onion, let kill anyone with a knife, and I have never handled any weapons! I'll be dead before I reach the first item I see at the cornucopia!" I sob; she looks at me – straight into my eyes.  
"That won't be, just clear out! You're smart, smarter than anyone I know! If you just evade, you'll have gotten yourself a couple of weapons if you make it to the final two, just throw a knife and come home!" She says, she doesn't know what she's saying, but I make a plan from this tiny sob. I need to be strong for her anyway;  
"Your right Evanna. I can do this." But I just have to add this, for my families' sake.

"Promise me Evanna, if I don't come home. Look after my family, make sure they don't starve, please." I say, she looks into my eyes

"You will come home!" But reality wins her out

"I promise, I promise on my life that your family will never starve while I live!" Evanna states and a peacekeeper comes up to her

"Your time is up." He states, she gives me one last hug, and whispers in my ear "You have to win Foxy!" I force a smile, and mouth to her "I'll try" – the peacekeeper repeats it's time for her to go, "Just a second," She says, and she hands me a necklace with a bronze fox's head, with glowing amber eyes.

"It's beautiful" I whisper.

"Your district token, please" She says, I nod and secure it around my neck, the peacekeeper coughs so Evanna hugs me tight "Good luck Foxy!" She says and rushes out before she gets arrested. Mother and Father come in next, as does my sister Rosie. "You're smart FoxFeatures; this year District Five will have a victor, and trust me it won't be the male tribute!" Rosie tells me, her voice is so sure I almost believe her, she hugs me tight and kisses me – then she leaves before she breaks into tears. My mother reaches me and hugs me hard, "You will come home my love, you will! I swear, and I'll have fresh loaves like I did this morning all for you. Just come home" She swears in a blind panic, I'd never seen her in such a state.

My father speaks to me last of all, hugging me also. "Jess, while you're in there. Just don't over estimate your opponents, if you just use evasion as your tactic, you may win this thing yet," I get a light kiss of him, and he leaves. Mother smothers me in kisses and nearly kills me with a vice-like hug, and she has to be pulled away by peacekeepers. Father's right! If I learn to throw a knife or a spear during my time in the training centre, I could just use the arena as my murder weapon, slowly they kill off each other and when the final opponent crosses my threshold, I throw a knife, and am crowned victor.

It's a start, anyway.

District Five's escort, Sabrina Jenison, a woman with bright green hair that reaches just above her shoulders and wears matching lipstick and eye shadow, she's short and skinny and has silver tattoo's around her wrists and eyes and is about twenty, rushes us out of the justice building and into a train.  
"You two are in for a treat, you know! Not the greatest quality food, but they can't fork out too much just for the transport! And at five hundred miles per hour, we'll be at the capitol by tomorrow! Oh wait till your stylist's get hold of you, they'll have you look great, like a decent, normal human being! And your rooms..." She goes on and on like this for a while, and I feel so relieved for her to shut her trap when the food arrives. I look at the knife and fork, they look quite odd – The fork resembles a miniature trident and the knife looks sort of like a spear, I have never used them before but I get the gist of it quickly –my partner on the other hand, doesn't. "For heaven's sakes Jackson! Have you never used a knife and fork before," Sabrina complains, so that's what my district partner is called, Jackson shakes his head. Sabrina rolls her eyes and begins to show him, I'm having trouble myself so I begin to copy her. When I first eat a piece of steak covered in creamy peppercorn sauce I think my taste buds explode. It is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted! And Sabrina was complaining about it! I find it hard to believe it could get much better than this! Sabrina grimaces at the taste but eats it dutifully. I cram myself with everything I see, steak, lamb, chicken, all meats we could never afford, salad of higher quality than anything we can grow in the garden, rich fruits I've never heard of before such as "Cumquat" And "Coconut" and "Yam" – These are all so deliciously mouth watering I could easily eat them forever, but I don't – I move on to chocolate cake and cream, something we'd have to do alot of trading at the market to be able to get, then a rich sticky toffee pudding and donuts with jam, custard and cream filling, then ones dusted in icing sugar and others in normal sugar – we could never afford all these at home.  
I wash everything down with orange juice, I've only ever had it twice – when Rosie brought some, celebrating getting a job, and when Rosie was eighteen, we had it the day of the reaping, we were celebrating the fact she'd lived her life without ever being reaped.

Lucky thing.

When we're finished Jackson looks rather queasy, and I don't feel so hot either, boy that stuff is rich. We are dismissed and I go straight to my bedroom, of which I am told is straight along the corridor then left right left. I pull of my reaping clothes and throw them across the room, I finally let emotion across my face and lie on my bed, my hand is against my chest where my district token is, and I sob until I eventually fall asleep.

**Hope you liked it! I really am enjoying myself! **** Please Review! **


	3. Chapter 3 :Prepping in the Capitol

**CHAPTER THREE: LIFE AND PREPPING IN THE CAPITOL**

****I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS** **

"Wake up Jessica dear! It's going to be a big day!" I hear Sabrina's capitol accent through the door, I climb out of bed and dress in the first thing I see in the wardrobe, which is a brown short sleeved shirt and black trousers. I brush my hair and put it in a bun, I still wear my token as I walk down the corridor to find breakfast buffet style, my district partner was already munching his way through a croissant, and I begin to nibble at some dry white toast. Two people burst in, a man with dark purple hair that you could mistake for black if it wasn't for the slight shimmer of colour you see when the light bounces off it with golden tattoo's around his cheek bones, and a woman with thick blond hair, to bright to be natural, and a flower tattoo on her right cheek – they introduce themselves. "Hello Jackson, I am your mentor –Ayre Emblem" says the man

"Hello there Jessica, I'm your mentor, Menna Vale" I look her over in disgust, she used to be like me – but she has been Capitol-ifed, just like him, they don't possess the Capitol trill but they certainly don't speak like those from District Five. I heard in district twelve they only have one mentor, so they are both taught by the same person – we are lucky enough to have a mentor for the female tribute – me, and the male tribute – Jackson. I don't recognise these two from any past games, but they can't be older than twenty-three so perhaps I'm a little young to remember them. I don't pay attention to the beaming Menna; I just finish off my toast as we pull into the capitol. I stare out the window and look to all the waving freaks of the capitol with different coloured hair and skin, bright tattoos and sharp talons for nails. I don't pay attention to them; I just pretend they are not there as peacekeepers escort us to the tributes building and training centre, "This is where you will be staying until the games begin." Sabrina tells us

"Seeing as your District Five, you're on the fifth floor" she adds, we step in an elevator and as it shoots up, I find it hard not to beg Sabrina if we can ride it again – I have never been in one in my life, and it is an exhilarating feeling. This entire floor is ours, yet there are so many rooms. There are only five of us, actually plus my prep team and my stylist, and Jackson's prep team and stylist, there are only thirteen of us, but there are hundreds of rooms one could easily get lost here. Sabrina takes the lead and shows us to our rooms, "I want you all in the dining hall by quarter to ten in the morning tomorrow, OK?" She says, it's obviously directed to Jackson and me, even though the mentors are still with us. We nod and rush to our rooms. I want to pull off these capitol clothes and wear something from home. But my reaping outfit will have been binned by now, they have no reason (in their eyes) to keep it, they have no concept of pain or hate, longing for home or family – just entertainment. Yesterday all seemed hopeless, but my hatred of these people have made me determined to win these games, time for me to put on a brave face and think my way to victory, I'm smart, for a district five girl at least – I can identify plants well so I won't die, I know what's deadly and what's not, they will probably throw something poisonous in the arena – such as Nightlock, many children may be killed by these while I just stay hidden. If I just learn how to tie some good knots and throw a knife at a decent distance in a fatal place, I may just win this thing yet. But I can't seem too on top of things either, that will make me a target, one to be pursued in the arena – If I just get a bad enough score when I eventually go for my private training, but not bad enough that I will lose sponsors...

The alarm goes at half nine, so I shower, I cannot work out the hundreds of buttons that spray me with things I have never seen in my life, how I step out of there clean is a mystery – and I dress in a blouse and black jeans. I am in at quarter to nine on the dot, and a breakfast is laid out of which I stuff my face with everything I see for the next ten minutes. Jackson is already eating when I arrive, and Sabrina is fussing over whether a slice of toast with chocolate spread will make her look fat or not, I want to throw my knife at her. She is worrying about being fat when anyone in my district would give anything for a round belly, or at least not the ability to count your ribs. Ayre and Menna turn up, but just for breakfast – some mentors. They have been a fat lot of use so far, Menna pipes up to me later that day though – as we are going to our prep team to get ready for tonight's chariot rides, but what she's saying isn't t all useful. "Listen Jessie dear" She begins, I am sick of my real name. I just want to be foxy, or Fox-Features, or even Foxy-lady again – bring some normality back into my life as the twisted world of the Hunger Games and the capitol draws it away from me. "You are not going to like. No, that's an understatement. You are going to HATE what they do to you today, but just grit your teeth and stick it out – OK." Menna finishes, by the looks of things my district partner is being told the same thing. I nod, sly and elusive – that is what I've decided my strategy is to be, this way I won't be one that should be hunted and killed instantly in the arena, but I won't be a measly kid that Capitol Citizens will deem not worth sponsoring, as I'll most likely be dead by dawn, or even before that in the cornucopia blood bath.

Xxxxx

I grit my teeth, yet a long hiss escapes my lips as a woman with deep purple skin named Farah strips me of hair. She apologises over and over, but I can tell she doesn't really mean it, as her lips curl into a smile every time she strips me of hair and about fifty layers of skin too. As soon as she's done a woman with bright pink hair named Cati takes charge on my features, silver eyeliner and eye shadow – while a man with tattoo's over his forehead named Acyer works on my nails, painting them silver then studding over them with jewels. After an hour of "prepping" all three of them beam at me, marvelling at their work "We've done it again!" Cati pipes, "You look actually normal now!" Farah adds, grinning.

"That'll be all" I hear a dark voice say, and the Prep team nod and run off. A man with bright red and black hair, black eyeliner and mascara and black tattoo's around his neck and arms is standing before me, "I'm Ember" He says, he gestures for me to stand up – and he circles my nude body. "Your partner's stylist and I were thinking something bright, as you are district five." He begins, power – that's us. He hands me a long, thin silver dress covered in glitter and a circular matching headdress that represents solar discs. It looks hideous but I slip on the dress regardless, thinking only of what Menna told me to do. Acyer gets a brush and scrapes my hair back into its usual bun, "I want people to recognise you," he says – and he fixes the headdress over my hair. He grins while I stand there looking like a silver, sparkly snowman "Perfect!" He grins.

**Woah! That was a long one! Sorry, and yes – I made up the stylists. It's harder than you think to do that :/ **


	4. Chapter 4: The Chariot Rides

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE CHARIOT RIDES**

****I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS** **

My district partner is in the same outfit as me, except he is wearing a long-sleeved top and trousers – not a dress. We climb onto the fifth-in-line chariot, we have palmino-tobiano gypsy vanner horses that seem to resemble district five's power theme by wearing similar headdresses as ours. I hold the side of the chariot and shuffle away from Jackson as possible, I have never met him in my life – and I don't plan on getting to know him, either. A man shouts out "FIVE" and suddenly our horses march off, just as the district four tributes leave our sight. I smile, but not to widely, and I make sure I show no teeth, moderation. I cannot seem too over confident, nor weak and unworthy to sponsor.

I wave quietly, not even raising my arm too high as district six begin to leave. I hear the announcements from Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickermen "District one, what beauty! Luxury items are bound to have a bonus though! And there's district two, dressed up like ancient messenger God's – well I certainly don't see the resemblance to masonry there. Aha! Here we have district three, their hats resemble cogs – very clever, Technology! And district four is a sight to behold, fishing! Here's five – Nice headdress's – even their horses seem to match!" Begins Claudius.

Caesar takes over for the rest of the districts, "And six, just as amazing headdress's as five! Like a horn, or a crescent moon! What that has to do with transportation though I have no idea! And here comes seven, lumber! And their entire outfits are made out of, what is that – paper? Very clever – hats off to their stylists! District eight – Textiles! Oh their costumes, they look more like jesters than anything else! And there comes district nine, grain – oh wait look at those from ten! Livestock, and their dressed up as cowboys! How humours! Here's eleven – wearing farming dungarees and harvest headdresses! Look at the female tribute, how sweet – what is she, twelve! If she wasn't a tribute I'd of thought she'd of been as young as seven, cute thing! And last but by every, I mean no means least here is...what is that?"

I look around to see the district twelve tributes engulfed in flames. But they're not burning to death – they are standing strong with the fire flickering behind them. And...Is my eyesight bad or are they actually... "Look at that! You see that I love that, holding their hands entwined together saying that I am PROUD I come from district twelve, I don't care how poor or ridiculed we are, we will NOT be overlooked! I love that!" Caesar is exclaiming, do they think they are both going to survive or something?

I have no time to think of this over as all the chariots come to a standstill. I don't think half the crowd is listening to President Snow's announcement as the lights have been dimmed, so its pitch black – it's hard to avert your eyes from flickering flames in the dark – so nearly everyone is transfixed by the costumes of the district twelve tributes. This infuriates me! After this, they'll be reeling in sponsors – the only other districts that people will sponsor besides them are one, two and four. Well, there may be some hope yet – district twelve is the worst, disease ridden district in all of Panem, they'll be even more clueless with weapons than I will be. They're low scores will drive betters and sponsors away no matter how many times they set themselves on fire. We ride out and everyone, that includes tributes and tributes mentors and stylists and escorts including us glower at the district twelve tributes and stylists and mentor (the rumours are true, there is only one mentor. He did a stage dive during the reaping of District Twelve but I had no idea if there was a female mentor too) and escort.

**Sorry it's so short! **


	5. Chapter 5: First day of training

**CHAPTER FIVE: FIRST DAY OF TRAINING**

****I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS** **

I've been up for hours, awake with my bed made and my hair washed and dried with my training clothes on that had been left on a chair in my room. Still I take a few minutes to leave when Sabrina knocks on my door for another "exciting new day" for me. Eventually I go to breakfast and I eat everything in sight as does my district partner, who showed up sometime between me starting and finishing a banana, until Sabrina arrives with Ayre and Menna. Menna comes up to me, "Listen, what are your skills?" She asks

"I have none; I've never used a weapon in my life." She frowns for a second, but then says "Try out as many stations as possible then, find your talent Jessica. You're bound to have one – knife throwing, spearing, archery, even throwing a mace, whatever. Then we'll talk" She says, I nod and Sabrina rushes us to the elevator.

"I want you to come straight back as soon as trainings over, ok?" She says - are we going to do otherwise? We can hardly legit out of the building with the amount of peacekeepers guarding the place. We nod netherless and go down to the training centre. A tall, dark skinned woman named Atala tells us the basic rules; I do a quick assessment of everyone around me. I automatically know to avoid district one, two and four – but this year there seems to be some danger with the female district twelve too, she made a splash at the opening ceremonies that much is clear, and she's small, but better built than me or any other district tributes besides the careers, and she's brave. I hadn't paid much attention to her reaping, but thinking of it she volunteered – and coming from an outlining district – volunteering isn't the norm for the likes of this girl and everyone else from twelve, but she volunteered for her sister, and she is the first volunteer I have ever seen from there – my mother told me once she'd never seen a volunteer from there either. Don't get me wrong, people are hardly falling over each other to volunteer in district five like they are in one, two and four – but every few years or so you do see the occasional volunteer - it's practically unheard of where she is from. I cannot remember her name but I make a quick mental note to keep an eye on her but go back to listening to Atala. I need to be focused if I want to win, and as soon as she sets us free from her lecture to try out the different stations I don't run to the first place I see.

I observe, the careers are going to the most deadly looking weapons – doing their best and some to intimidate us all. The District Twelve tributes are staying together for some reason, and are at the knot tying station. I go to a station that is unoccupied except for one, a little girl from district eleven. Rue, I think she's called. It's the plant identification station; it's a piece of cake. I recognise everything edible from mint leaves to berries, and can easily say what will slowly kill you by making you ill before bringing on death, and what will kill you before they can reach your stomach. I make another mental note to look for Nightlock in the arena, perhaps I could somehow plant them on someone – for example I come across a murdered tribute I could plant the berries on them and when someone else strips them of supplies and eats them...Then I am one step closer to home. I can't stay at the plant identification station forever, and some of the careers have seemingly gotten bored of weaponry and now moving on to physical strength – I head over to the throwing station. There are dummies around the station at different lengths away, and each fatal spot and artery is highlighted – these are the places you have to try and hit. There are many different weapons here to throw, axes, knifes, maces and so on but I start with spears, seeing as some other tributes that I recognise to be from eight and nine are already trying out the knives, and the female seven is naturally taking a fancy to axes – being from the lumber district she's been throwing axes since she was old enough to toddle.

The first spear I throw lands on a dummies knee, not exactly fatal – the second lands on the hip, getting higher – and the final I throw slices off the dummies ear. Not exactly my forte then...spears. I try with maces and am no better, but eventually eight and nine move on and I am first to get to the knives before any other district can get hold of them. I throw quick and fast – one slices the dummies throat, making fake blood spew from it. The next I end up slicing off an arm, not fatal straight away but they could die from blood loss, providing that they weren't too wounded for me to stick a knife in them before they can move much closer. Finally I hit the dummy straight in the heart. Well, I've found my weapon – knives. I remember my tactic then, and I desperately hope none of the careers saw my last three throws and brand me one to be watched.

I try a little less hard this time, I hit the ribcage of the dummy, not fatal at first but just like the arm, I could easily stick a knife in the injured tribute providing I don't need to make a quick getaway – then they could die on their own, and even if they don't another tribute will surely kill them. The next cuts a gash right over its forehead, still not fatal but you could quickly bleed to death if you're not treated. My final knife secures itself in the dummies shoulder blade, perfect! All three deadly but unfatal, that's exactly what I need my opponents to judge me as. Not one to be hunted and not one to be assumed will die in the cornucopia blood bath – so no one will sponsor me. A bell goes and it's time for lunch, I pick a table on my own. Making sure everyone else has sat down so no one can slide next to me, I eat all I can, the best thing I can do is put on a few pounds – and I really am not that hungry, so that'll help me put on more weight, eating even though your body is saying it's full.

I spend another hour at knife throwing, then move on to the knot tying station. I will need to be able to catch my food as well as pick it off bushes, and the instructor shows me a simple snare that'll have me a fat belt of rabbits within a day. I spend an hour mastering this trick, then try out the fire-starting station, I'm a whizz at this, and easily coax blazes from dry and damp wood. I see little point in trying the cooking station, as I already know how to gut and skin animals from cooking at home ,so I stay at the fire-starting station until ten at night, then we all have to go – I make a point of being last to get in an elevator, I don't want to be travelling with anyone. As soon as I get onto the fifth floor Menna pounces on me "What did you do? Find anything useful? Learn what you can do?" She asks, and I tell her a brief summary of what she deems important.

"I started at the edible plants station and passed it without blinking an eye. Then I went over to the throwing station, I sucked with spears and maces but I was real good with a knife, if that dummy had been a tribute I'd of killed it several times over. I went to the knot tying station after lunch and learnt a snare, then finally I stayed at the fire-starting station till around ten minutes ago and turns out I'm OK at getting fires from any kind of wood." She ponders this for a second, then says;

"Knives, not uncommon but that doesn't stop them being deadly. When you're in the arena, throw from above – that's the best course of action. No one will see you coming, and the cannon will go off before you get to see your victim," She says, I hate her description of how to murder someone from above. Though I have no choice but to deem it an option in my head, but on the outside act as if she's told me that the games is rigged for me to win "Thanks!" I grin and begin to help myself to some pizza.

**Now, that was a LONG ONE! And before you all begin to say it, I never wanted Foxface's weapon to be a knife, as it is a common weapon used by Clove and other tributes, it was originally planned to be spears, actually. But I was looking up what her training score was on the Hunger Games wiki, and I saw that her weapon was knife so I had to re-write part of the chapter. Please review, whether you liked it or not! **


	6. Chapter 6: The Private Session

**CHAPTER SIX – THE PRIVATE SESSION**

**Hope you enjoy this, don't forget to review!**

*****THREE DAYS LATER*****

Today's the day, we put anything we've learnt during training and show it to the Gamemakers – receiving our training scores. Training scores that will either win us, or lose us sponsors, training scores that will either force our opponents to pursue us in the arena, or wait till they come across us and stick a knife in our backs. Farah prods and pokes at my hair, as that's the only part of me they've been instructed to change, "What's the point of a lousy old bun? Too maid like for my opinion. It's so much sweeter loose, but you'll need it up for your sessions." She sighs, and eventually straightens it then twists it up in a neat bun with stay hair hanging down the sides. You can't fail to see the sadness in her eyes, as if it's more of a crime to have awful hair than to celebrate the death of twenty-three children every year. I know she means well, but I can't help but feel pleasure in imagining picking up those still-hot straightners and scarring her face, and then chopping off all her hair and see her cry at the amount of pain she's in. I snap out of this fascination and into reality when my training gear is thrusted upon me by Embry. I quickly change and he highlights my features before taking a simple headshot photo for when our scores are televised. I wondered why I was within the hands of my prepping team when I could be training for the private session with the Gamemakers; they want me to look good for a simple headshot, another one of the reasons in my long list of why I want to kill everyone from the Capitol. "Good luck" Says Embry, sounding as hostile as ever.

We are all queuing up now, from district one to twelve, waiting for the Gamemakers to call us in for our sessions. To pass the time I try to think of what score I should aim for, my tactic isn't what the other's is, to get as higher mark as possible – it's probably safest to get between a four and a six, seven at the most. Just as I am deciding this I hear the booming voice of Seneca Crane, the head Gamemaker, through the speakers announcing "MARVEL, DISTRICT ONE" and the district one tribute walks in, a grin on his face. I'm almost certain he's going to make a beeline for the spears – I've seen him throw, and he's pretty impressive. Fifteen minutes later, "GLIMMER, DISTRICT ONE" and a skinny blond girl with pearl white teeth flounces in, it goes on and on every fifteen minutes "CATO, DISTRICT TWO – CLOVE, DISTRCICT TWO" They both go in one after the other with fifteen minutes apart, and before I know it they're shouting "JACKSON CONNERY, DISTRICT FIVE" and my district partner walks in, from what I've observed, his weapons a sickle.

Fifteen short minutes later I here, "JESSICA ROBERTS, DISTRICT FIVE" I take one final glance of the room I've been sitting in for the last hour and a quarter before entering the big, black doors of the training centre – and the last thing I see is the district Twelve female, Katniss Everdeen, desperately trying to stare me down.

I don't go to the knives straight away, I observe the Gamemakers. They have had a few drinks that much is clear by the empty champagne glasses and the glazed expressions, but seem relatively alert, but I'm almost certain that by the time little Rue from district eleven comes in – they'll be knocking back the champagne a bottle each and singing all manner of drinking songs. I go for the knots first, and make snares and other traps I'd learnt, as if I was setting a trap for the dummies/Tributes. That'll get me a two, I need higher than that or I'll lose sponsors so I go for the knives. I have ten minutes left and go for my usual tactic, throwing at deadly but not quickly fatal spots. The ribs, the leg, a gash along a forehead. Ok, if I was a gamemaker observing this girl from district five, she'd get a three – I still need higher. I aim for more fatal areas, the neck, the windpipe and the head, I use two knives to slice it clean off. Well, bloody off. They're on their fourth drink since I arrived, I need to do something good in my last three minutes if I want a score at all – I spot some sand bags that are keeping the dummies down. I get a knife and fling it at the rope – slicing it in two and sending a dummy flying into the air. This gets their attention, I pipe up "And that is how I'd be able to work a trap. Once the tribute is suspended in the air, I could stick a knife in them." I say, one gamemaker nods "Thank you, Miss Roberts – you may go now." I leave the knives on the side and walk out the door just to hear the announcement of the district six male to enter.

**Hope you liked this Chapter, one and a half pages on word doc *Faints* I'll try to get another chapter done today don't forget to review, whether you liked it or not! **


	7. Chapter 7: The Interviews

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE INTERVEIWS**

****I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS** **

**Thank you to Dei-Dei wolfgirl and boywiththebreadlover **

**R & R please **

"A bun!" Argues Acyer, grabbing a brush an pulling my hair into its usual bun "A grip!" hisses Cati, grabbing the bun off him and begins to twiddle my hair "People will recognise her with a bun!" Acyer roars, "A grip is original!" screeches Cati, they pull my hair in so many directions I fear they'll pull it out.

"Enough!" Screams Farah, and they both stop in deadly silence. She takes the brush off Cati and fashions my hair into a bun, but leaves half my hair still hanging down my back, she supports the bun with a grip and turns some curlers on, and she curls my hair and turns everything off. She looks at her fellow stylists, "now shut up, Acyer – do her nails teal, and Cati, you do her make-up. Embry said teal eye shadow and black mascara and eyeliner, also to use minimal blusher" Farah orders, reading a slip of paper that is obviously from my stylist – Embry. Acyer and Cati still look fuming with each other, my arm is stretched out as far as it can go as Acyer attempts to ignore Cati, who keeps changing from doing my make-up to giving Acyer evils. They remind me of five year olds, and it takes all I have not to punch them both while Farah adds slides to my hair. Once done, they do as they usually do, stand back and admire their work. Acyer and Cati are still arguing "Her nails are amazing, simply the best in my opinion." Acyer comments, then adds "Shame about her makeup though, it looks ridiculous. No one will sponsor her" they talk about me as if I am just a doll, not there just their mannequin to poke and prod. Cati retorts, "Her makeup looks fabulous! Her nails look as if a five year old has done them blind folded though," why do they argue like they are small school children? I'm glad when Embry arrives as I swear one more comment and they'd of both gone away with black eyes.

He looks in a wardrobe but finds me a bright teal blue strapless dress that matches my nails and makeup, when I stand it's about ten centimetres above the knee, but looks much less tart like when I sit down. He gives me a pair of matching coloured heels then a silver choker necklace. He circles me then asks me to twirl, for once I admit I don't look like a freak, I look fabulous.

Just like when we were doing our private sessions, we stand silently (Except district twelve, they seem to chat away as if they're lovers) with our district partner and wait to be called, except not into the training centre, onto the stage where every member of every district and every citizen of the Capitol including the president himself will be watching us be interviewed by Caesar Flickermen. He has been doing the interviews for as long as I can remember, mother said she joined when she was about three, so he's been doing this for a good forty years. Each year he's sporting different colours, but for the seventy-fourth games he's wearing blue lipstick and eye shadow with puffy midnight blue hair that matches his twinkling suit he wears year after year. "Well tonight ladies and gentleman we are meeting the tributes of the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games! Are you all excited?" He asks, the crowd screams and roars in reply, unlike our private sessions, the female tributes go first so he's soon grinning "Well, from district one, she's beautiful, pretty and skinny – but does she have the brains to survive? Give a warm round of applause for Glimmer, district one!" the audience cheers and claps as Glimmer in a short, tight dress that barely covers her breasts walks on, beaming and posing.

Each tribute only gets three minutes with Caesar, so it'll be my turn soon, after the female district four career. I observe each tribute and find out their tactics, Glimmer is obviously sexy, Marvel is funny, Cato is scary and domineering, Clove is deadly and vicious, both of district three seem to have gone for charming, and both of district four are going for witty. Me, I'm going for sly and elusive. "All the way from district five, it's Jessica" Caesar is suddenly announcing, and I quickly make my way to the stage, trying my best not to trip in these ridiculously high heels. I sit down and cross my legs, I fear this dress is a little_ too_ short. "So, Jessica. Five as a training score hmm. Not too bad then, for your district" begins Caesar, sly and elusive, sly and elusive, sly and elusive.

"No, not too bad." I say, not wanting to give away too much information about myself. "What about home? A special friend, a special guy?" He asks, signalling an "Oooh" from the audience. I shake my head, "no special guy, but I do have a best friend. Evanna" I say, I try desperately to hold back a blush, Caesar smiles. "Evanna, odd name. Is that a nickname?" I hold my breath for a second to stop myself bursting out in a fit of giggles, so Glimmer, Clove and Marvel aren't weird names, but Evanna is? "No. I'm the one with the nickname" I say fast, Caesar raises his eyebrows "What might that be, hmm?"

"Different things, Foxy. FoxFeatures, Fox-Face" I say, no one has ever actually called me Fox-face at home, but it appears I am more like a fox than I think as I overheard district twelve, Katniss, Call me "Fox-Face." Caesar chuckles "Interesting dear. I see the resemblance" He smiles and the audience laugh on cue. "Anything you want to say, to friends and family?" He asks, I nod and look directly into the camera "Mum, I'll be OK – I swear. Dad, what you told me as we left, thanks, I might actually come home now. Or at least make it far into the games. Rosie I miss you so much, and if I die..." I can't finish my sentence so I move on to Evanna "And Evanna, I miss you so very much it hurts, if I die find another friend and get on with your life – and work at an apothecary for me eh? I love you all and miss you all terribly, I hope you know that." I fight tears that I am sure my family are shedding at home, the audience sighs and I can see I've moved them. Caesar takes a second to wipe some tears and moves on to a lighter mood, completely changing the subject as if what I just said never happened. "Well, my dear Fox-Face, I do love your dress." He comments, forcing me to stand up and show just about every bit of my legs to the whole of Panem "Thank-you." I say, "Your stylists have great taste." He adds, 'no, not really Caesar' I want to say, but instead I sit down, I can see he's trying to make conversation and as the camera shows shots of the tributes outside, I can see the fury build up in Katniss' face, which makes me grin. "Well Fox-Face, Foxy, Jessica, whatever you prefer to be called..." Begins Caesar, I don't want him to use my nickname, or anyone in the Capitol, I despise them so. "Good luck with the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. May district five have a female victor this year" Caesar grins, and, as if on cue, the buzzer goes. I'm sure there must be a timer for Caesar to see somewhere, that can't be just luck. I smile subtly and the crowd cheers me as I walk, more stumble off in great high-heels as my district partner is being called on.

"You did it darling! You were wonderful!" Prompts Sabrina as I go to where she, my stylists and mentors stand "You did ok Kid." Ayre says, and Menna softly smiles "you were great Foxy!" I want to throw a punch at her. Only Evanna calls me Foxy, what I wouldn't give to have five minutes with her. I'll probably never hear her mutter my name again. I sit in silence and pretend to actually care when they congratulate me on a successful interview and how "moved" they were when I talked to the camera so Rosie, Mother, Father and Evanna could hear one final goodbye. Jackson eventually joins us and they bring on a new wave of congrats as we watch the rest of the tributes. Turns out Katniss got an eleven, how did a district twelve girl pull that? And their sticking with the flames theme, as when she spins her dress flares out and engulfs her in flames, she's a giggling mess. Idiot, she'll be pursued for sure now in the arena. Peeta Mellark comes on next, and does what district twelve seems to do best, blow all us tributes out of every single better and sponsor's minds by saying that he loved his district partner, you pick up the blush in Katniss' cheeks but I see it in her eyes, this is a fix. She doesn't love him, but there's no false pretence in Peeta's eyes. What a mess.

**Hoped you liked it! My longest chapter yet, two and ¾ pages long on word doc :O Don't forget to review! Even if you disliked it, I'll take constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve my writing skills! I will post chapter seven tomorrow! **


	8. Chapter 8: The Arena

**Oops, I forgot that WAS Chapter seven! I meant Chapter Eight :/ But anyway thank you everyone who's reading, this is my first fanfic so it's kinda important to me! Enjoy, and don't forget to review! **

**CHAPTER EIGHT: THE ARENA **

_I'm running thick and fast, the arena going blurry as I sprint for my life. District one, Clove, is pursing me and throwing each and every knife she owns, chopping off limb by limb until she catches my back, I'm coughing blood and the last thing I hear is the boom of the cannon. _

I wake up in a violent, voiceless, empty scream – drenched in sweat as I recall what appears to be my death. My breathing runs thick and fast as I break into a fit of silent sobs._ It was just a dream Foxy, just a dream_ I tell myself, but I can't seem to shake the images that continue to replay in my mind, this is most probably because it's true, every single stinking bit true, in a way. Nightmares are supposed to be dreams that attack the fear part of the brain, but end up not real. For example, if you're scared of spiders and you have a nightmare that you are being attacked by hundreds of thousands of huge spiders, when you wake it's going to shake you, but you know it's never going to happen. But my dream could, I could be running far from the cornucopia but any tribute could throw something, a knife, an axe, a spear, whatever, and I could die in seconds. These thoughts stay with me whenever I sleep, so the night before the games I get a grand total of forty-five minutes sleep, I need staying power and my lack of sleep hasn't helped me. Sabrina's trill capitol accent doesn't wake me up, she probably knows I've been thrashing around half the night, so I just leave the room still in my pyjamas and walk as awake as a zombie to the breakfast hall. Jackson's already there, picking at some toast. Fool, we need energy and Lord knows when we'll get food in the arena, though I see his point. I pick up a banana and have to force it down, but if it'll help me in the arena I'm going to force down every bite of food I can hold and then some. I drink as much water as I can too, I'll need it for when I'm unable to find a water source in the arena, and I assume most of us will have dry, cracked tongues for the first few days as a gamemaker trick. Menna, who has been about as much good a mentor as a calendar would be so far, comes up to me. "Look kid, you're not up for the cornucopia blood bath. Once the gong sounds, run. Clear out, don't even get something if it's right by your feet, ok? Run" She stares straight at me and I know she's not kidding, those supplies are going to be so tempting – If I could just grab something and go...

Sabrina suddenly bursts through the door and ushers us out, I'm not over reacting. She pulls us by the neck with her talon-like nails and shoves us out into the hall, into the lift and punches the button that leads to the floor of the stylists. And I mean punches – her knuckles are grazed but she shows no sign of pain. Wordlessly as soon as the lift pings open she shoves us out and stands still while our stylists pull us in different directions. I've never seen her act like this, she couldn't surely miss us...Could she?

I'm poked and prodded once more by Embry, and I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable, he already knows my clothing size and what part of me is weak where so he can show my "best side." What's he doing, everyone seems to be acting as if their bewitched. Eventually he literally throws me a uniform, and I hate his glaring eyes as I put on a long sleeved brown shirt with black trousers, then a green-and-black jacket that reaches my ankles and is designed to reflect body heat. I nearly get smacked in the face as he chucks some boots at me, they're better than what I could of hoped for. Half way between the ankle and knee, black and laced up, the soles are rigid and worn. Good for climbing. He scrapes, and I mean scrapes, the brush is so hard pressed down to my scalp my heads red raw to match my flaming locks, my hair into a bun and walks out. What is with everyone? I try to make sense of what's going on while I drink sips of water, Menna and Ayre will be sitting in another room, staring at the screen and waiting for the cornucopia blood bath. Sabrina will be half way to district four hoping to get promoted, Farah, Cati, Acyer and Embry will probably be fighting over who looks the best. I hate every single one of them. Sabrina is not on her way to district four, at least not yet, as she rushes in and takes me outside where I see every single tribute. We are each put in district order and go up a ladder into a hovercraft, it takes near five minutes for each tribute and I begin to wonder what's actually going on until it's my turn. I step on and am locked in my place immediately, the more I struggle to move the more my body stiffens – the ladder rises and I can't even look down at the descending tributes. I stop and see other tributes around me, rubbing their arms as a woman with a needle comes up to me "Sorry, this is just your tracker. Makes it easier if you're dead still," she says – I feel a sharp pain in my arm but soon the ladder releases me – and I rush to a far seat near no tribute. We all sit waiting as the other tributes from six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and twelve all get their trackers. Katniss Everdeen sits right beside me and I can see the fear in her eyes, it's all I can do not to shout at her "Not so cocky now are you fire girl? Your eleven in training not enough? Is trying to stare us all down not enough? Is stealing the sponsors and betters from us all not enough? You make me sick." And she does, she really does. The hovercraft lands and we're all lowered down by the ladder and we're taken away by our escorts, except for District twelve –their stylists are with them? Effie Trinket must be up at the Capitol, it's well known how much she despises her job as escort for twelve so she's hoping for a promotion surely. I'm taken (hand in hand with Sabrina, does she think I'm going to run off or something?) into a room along with my district partner, but he's taken away by his stylist of whom I don't know the name of. A glass tube opens and I step inside as a count down from thirty begins, I have never liked Sabrina but I find it hard to break our handhold as my heartbeat rises and the countdown lowers. A glass panel breaks my hand apart from Sabrina's "5...4...3...2...1"

I begin to rise up in the air, I receive one last look of the neon-green mess that is Sabrina's hair before I'm standing outside on a metal plate with twenty-three others – we're in the woods and facing a golden cornucopia. The gifts are as tempting as they seem on TV, all the goodies are piled high in the mouth whereas the not so useful items stand at are feet. You see a piece of plastic that could shelter you from rain right at my feet, but there's a tent pack up the mouth that could shelter you from all kinds of weather. If I want to get anything at all, I'm going to have to see what people are getting themselves, so I can avoid of those items. Katniss Everdeen, whom is on my right, has a focused expression on a bow and arrow – so I'll steer clear of those. Clove is eyeing a glorious array of knives that glisten next to a bright orange backpack, District Three is staring at the spears and little Rue can't keep her eyes off a slingshot and a tiny backpack that are right beside her. The clock reads ten seconds, and no one seems to be interested in some knives, just three simple ones that stand next to a not so desirable bunch of items – some plastic, dried food and pouches. If I could just run and grab them..._5...4...3...2...1 _The Gong sounds and it's free for all.

I race around the sides of the cornucopia instead of making a beeline for the weaponry. No one's dead yet, people are just frantically racing for weapons. I guess I spoke to soon. Clove gets hold of the set of knives she'd been staring at and places them in her belt, all twelve of them. Right beside her Katniss Everdeen is grappling the district nine male for the orange backpack, and Clove sticks a knife in his back, he coughs blood in Katniss' face then drops dead, I shudder as I remember my dream – Katniss has time to run with the backpack in hand as Clove is retrieving her knife so I continue to run for the knives. Two more lie dead on the ground. Three, Cato's got hold of a sword and is cutting some girls windpipe open. I turn to stare as this girl takes a final breath then look back at my knives, or what were my knives. District 7 male has gotten hold of my knives! That's not fair, his weapons are axes and spears – he can't even use the weapons he's just got hold of. I lunge for a sheet of plastic, but Katniss Everdeen does the same. We stare at each other, she has a knife right by her hand – she glances down at it, she could skewer me if she had the mind to. I could kill her also, but I can't have her dead yet, as annoying and bratty she is she got her training score for a reason, she may be able to kill off a few opponents before she's taken out herself. Her grey seam eyes fixate on my blue ones, and vice versa, but this isn't a stare down, it's as if she's deciding whether to kill me or not, that's probably the case. Clove comes charging in, knife in hand as she spots me – I break free from my stare at Katniss and run towards the woods, when I hear a whooshing sound and duck, a knife skims my head as it whooshes over me and plants itself in a tree. A second knife comes whizzing past my ear, so I jump to the left, once that's got itself wedged in the same tree a third comes so I spring to my right. I continue to duck but no more come – I turn around to see the fury in Clove's face, its bright red and her fists are clenched, she's sacrificed three of her precious knives on a girl who's not even been wounded. I race to the knives and retrieve them from the tree, she's not going to pursue me – she'll be drawn back to the cornucopia before the good stuff's gone. Good. I disappear into the woods and relief floods my face. Not that I'm anywhere near in the clear yet.

**Hope you enjoy it. I know its rubbish, only three people have actually read the full fanfic that I've posted so far :/ If you liked it, or if you disliked it, please please please review! It'll take what, thirty seconds of your time away and you have NO IDEA how good it feels to read a review – positive or not! **


	9. Authors Note PLEASE READ

**AUTHORS NOTE**

**Hi there, I am going away for a few days tomorrow, so cannot update :/ **

**Sorry, will write two chapters the first day I am back to make up for it! ~KatnissMellarkD12 **


	10. Chapter 10: Day one

**Hi! Back, just want to say a few things – but specifically to the people that have reviewed. If not, feel free to skip to story! **I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE WONDERFUL SUZANNE COLLINS****

**Maysilee Donner7867 and Miss N Amber – Thank you so much! I really was beginning to wonder if it sucked, I have read a few other Foxface POV's on here and they are so much better than mine!**

**Guest –I know that I need to do that – with the first few chapters it was a mistake, I didn't save it on Word Doc when I spaced it out, and it'd take me quite a while to re-upload it, my computer is very slow.**

**Dei-Dei Wolfgirl – Thank you!**

**And boywiththebreadlover – thank you the most, I think. You didn't have to read this (well no one did but you could of said no when I asked you) and I feel kinda intimidated (Oh God please let intimidated be the right word) after reading the fate games and what you have posted of rekindled fire – so thank you so very much!**

**On with the story!**

I have to keep moving, most of us will be in the woods by now – only a few idiots and the careers will still be picking what they can find from the cornucopia. The knives find their way into my belt, though my hands feel numb. I manage to sprint a good mile and a half before I remember that I'll need to save my energy so settle with a steady jog, If I run too far the Gamemakers will set a trap that'll force me near other tributes, maybe right into the career pack so I need to choose a sensible time to stop. Easier said than done, the last clock I'll ever see if I die here will of been the countdown clock at the cornucopia – and that played no part in telling the time, so I will have to go by judgment alone. Or not, if I am right, that the careers will be picking off the few idiots that think they still have a chance in getting the cornucopia supplies, then in roughly an hour the cannon will begin to fire. On the first day it's near impossible to tell who's dead and when they die – so the capitol wait till the bloodbath has ended and we've all spread out into the forest, though the tracker also shows the heart rate for which tribute – so it makes little sense to me, perhaps we are picked off so quickly it's hard for them to keep track. This will be a long hour, thirst will have taken me by tomorrow evening if I don't locate a water source, and using what little energy I now have (as most of it was used trying to survive the cornucopia) is not helping matters. All I can do for now is to continue downhill and look for animals, the fact they are alive shows there is a water source nearby.

It takes me by surprise, the first cannon. I great wild boom that vibrates the ground and causes me to fall over, more go off so I begin to count each boom - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 people dead. 11 people that this time yesterday were alive and eating the capitol's fine food wearing the finest clothes, living, breathing, moving, blinking, thinking, walking, talking. Living.  
It's always disgusting on TV; we'd get the full coverage of each death, each child or teenager being stabbed or cut or speared to death – we'd hear their final screams and watch the light leave their eyes as glory or apology shows on the other tribute's smile, you can practically read their thoughts, some of them – the career's are usually look as if they're thinking _one step closer to victory – _I'm not even sure if they are thinking of home, of family, merely victory - whereas the outlying districts have more pain in their expressions _Sorry, I am so very sorry. I need to go home, I swear I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice _and close their eyes as they deliver the fatal blow. I always cry when a younger child dies, twelve, thirteen, my expression stays neutral when a career dies – I don't want them to win, I don't want them to die, either. Whenever someone dies in tears as they're speared by a career I scream at the television – each death has a different outcome on me. It's always gruesome and every Hunger Games I always remember why I despise the Capitol so much, because they murder us for their entertainment, those of us who have done nothing wrong and have futures ahead of them are slaughtered – but I also feel sorry for victors, having to live through what they've done, often becoming alcoholics or morphling addicts. The very worst part though, is now, right now – It's different in the arena, the first death you nearly aren't expecting as it seems so unreal. But when reality hits you (or sometimes, cuts you if your being attacked at the time) in the face my anger builds up so madly, that the Capitol find this amusing? That eleven are dead because of them! Eleven are dead that would be alive if it weren't for their disgusting games! And twelve more are yet to die just because they find it interesting and entertaining.  
By the time I am climbing a tree to find a place to rest, the very top until the branches are too thin, in a willow so I am concealed, my fists are clenched and my palms are bleeding where my sharp nails have dug into them. My face is hot so I imagine my expression is in a furious scowl, my thoughts haunt me until matter of survival takes over. The temperature is dropping, rapidly – I'll be chilled to the bone before it's midnight if I don't warm up soon. I pull my hood over my head but it warms me up so very little it'd make no difference if I pulled it down again. My fumbling fingers pull off thick leaves of willow and I attempt to wrap them around my neck as a scarf, no improvements still. I hunch up, even taking a precaution to strap myself to the tree with my belt in case I role over in the night, even though I am pressed together tightly I'm not a single degree warmer. _Just stick it out till morning, you can think of something then _I tell myself as I stick my head between my knees, close my eyes and attempt to get some shut eye – even though the anthem hasn't played yet.  
I speak too soon, I begin to drift and the anthem roars in my ears, I grudgingly look up to the sky and see the district three's female tribute's face being projected into the sky. So the careers from one and two made it, I would be lying if I said I was surprised. I'm taken aback for a second when district four's male tribute appears next, strange – usually all the careers make it through day one. To follow is the five male, both from six and seven, eight male, nine female and finally the ten female before the sky goes black and the air falls silent once more. I'm not surprised Katniss made it, though her "boyfriend" is a different story, he's good at camouflage but what's he going to do? Paint someone to death? He must have some secret skill that hasn't been revealed, judging by his strong stature I'd say he was a townie, a merchant kid. Which means the odds are he'd of been a blacksmith's son, a baker's son or a farmer's son, which means he'd probably be good at weightlifting. I settle back into my position as I think over each tributes death, and think over those who are alive – especially little Rue. She's so small; she must have a secret skill too. Or not so secret, she's from eleven – agriculture, which means she spends most of her life in trees, climbing them. She's so small she could jump through the trees like monkeys do if she had mind to, in fact I'd be willing to bet that's her skill. Clove's alive, and as much of a threat everyone else is, I would sleep a fraction more comfortable is she died, thinking of her and her knives I want to scream in both anger and fear. My head swirls with such thoughts until it falls asleep, though I am woken several minutes later by loud, crunching sounds. My head flicks up and I listen for more, a pair of boots making their way across the arena, passing MY tree! If they knew I was here they could kill me in seconds. Maybe they do, I scrunch my eyes closed and bury my head in my knees, my heart speeds up to match my breathing – as whoever this tribute is, whatever district they're from, are climbing up the tree towards me.

**Ooh, bit of a cliff-hanger there! Can you guess who's climbing the tree? :)  
Don't forget to review, good or bad! It feels really good to read one and constructive and positive reviews help! Whether giving me tips or giving me the incentive to continue! It takes you about thirty seconds of your time, so I'm not asking much :) **


	11. Chapter 11: Survival

**I do not own THG, all rights to Suzanne Collins :)  
Enjoy, there are some quotes directly from the book here, so I have underlined them. **

I flexed automatically, but my hands still found their way to my knife of which I drew immediately to deflect attack, an attack that never came. Whoever was below me had positioned themselves to rest, they have no idea I'm above them! I could throw a knife right now and spilt the girls head open, my family is probably screaming at the television for me to do so, but I need to see who it is first, before I do anything rash. I dig my knife into the tree, grasp the handle and push my body downwards so I'm hovering about a metre above this person, their female so that leaves either Glimmer, Clove, District four, District eight, Rue or Katniss. It's not Glimmer or Clove; they'll be together with the remaining careers, as will district four. Rue is an awful lot smaller, and she only got a slingshot and a backpack from the cornucopia – This person has a sheet of plastic and a bright orange pack. Then it hits me, _a sheet of plastic and a bright orange pack!_ Katniss Everdeen has those two things; this girl has a braid in her hair too, just as Katniss does whenever I see her. District eight has bright ginger hair; too, this girl has brown. No, it's defiantly Katniss Everdeen. Katniss has a sleeping bag so she'll keep warm - I'm tempted to kill her for it - and some food in her pack – crackers and beef strips by the looks of things. Katniss and her eleven are dangerous, and I have a prime opportunity to slice her head in two, but she has her eleven for a reason. If she could kill a few people first, some of the weaker opponents like District eight and ten, one of the careers, if not the entire pack, will catch and kill her in seconds. It's the best I can do tonight, and though everyone in district five will be screaming at their screens for me to kill her right now, and everyone in district twelve will be breathing sighs of relief, so I put my head between my knees and, with my knife still in hand, fall asleep.

Looks like I will have to kill Katniss after all, if I want to survive the next couple of hours, I wake up and find her strapped asleep in her sleeping bag, backpack over her shoulder and plastic wrapped inside it. I need to get down, but she'll kill me if I wake her in the process. I could scale higher and jump to the next tree, but the branches are beginning to thin, they'll collapse under my weight. I begin to panic as her eyes flicker open, what if she wants to climb higher? I place the knife I've been clutching in my belt, and wait to watch her movement. She stays still but a new threat is around the corner, it's still freezing out but someone is lighting a fire, I squint but it's so dark I can't make out who it is. I can't kill them, either, as Katniss will know I'm up here – I'm grateful for the fire though, even if it is a stupid idea, because it's basically screaming _COME AND GET ME! _I get as close as I can without making a sound and relish the heat for the next few hours.  
The girl beneath us must have fallen asleep, as a throng of footsteps that can only be the career pack awake and coming to inspect the fire skewer her in the stomach before she can run off, I hear a squeal but no cannon. Bickering begins "Shouldn't of we heard the cannon by now?" Asks one, sounds like Clove  
"I'd say yes, nothing to stop them going in immediately" I'm pretty sure that's Marvel, Glimmer pipes up "Unless she isn't dead" This gets Cato furious "She's dead. I stuck her myself" Clove begins to argue, "Then where's the cannon?"  
"Someone should go back, make sure the job is done" Glimmer adds, trying to keep the peace, District four agrees with this "yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice," I can practically feel the rage on Cato's face "I said she's dead!" A full scale argument breaks out between the five, voices scream and rage but no one will track them down, they'll know it's the careers, only they make allies this big. A new voice has had enough, by the sounds of things, as he screams "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" I'm shocked by whose voice it is – also by the fact Katniss hasn't fallen out of the tree despite the belt, as it belongs to her so called boyfriend – Peeta Mellark. The weak boy whose skill is painting, why have the careers added someone from twelve? Even when they make allies with other districts, it's never the outlying ones such as nine and twelve.  
"Go on then, lover boy" Cato scoffs  
"see for yourself" I hear Peeta walking off and Clove takes the opportunity to say "Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?"  
"Let him tag along, what's the harm? And he's handy with a knife" He must of learnt that in the training centre like I did, a merchant kid isn't likely to use knives other than eating at the dinner table. The thing that puzzles me is why district twelve? We're all handy with other weapons; I'm handy with a knife too, District Eleven's Thresh can use a sword pretty well, even the district three male – he can use spears. Then I realise why, as Cato adds; "Besides, he's our best chance of finding her" It takes me less than a second to realise the _her _he is talking about is Katniss. The audience will be beside themselves that Katniss, the girl who he's hunting for, is right above him, and I'm above her. "Why? You think she brought into that sappy romance stuff" snaps Clove  
"She might have. Seemed pretty simpleminded to me. Every time I think about  
her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke." Cato says, so they're taking her seriously because of her training score. I think they're ignoring the basic facts; it takes alot to have yourself set on fire. "I just wish we knew how she got that eleven," Cato adds, I can practically hear the cogs whizzing around in his brain. "Bet you loverboy knows," Says district four, but as Peeta returns they stop speculating and shut up. Cato hastily moves on to another subject "Was she dead?"  
"No, but she is now" The cannon confirms he's telling the truth  
"Ready to move on?" he asks, they all nod and continue their chatter as they head off into the distance. I look down and see Katniss' face display fury but only for a second, unless there is a bloody battle going on somewhere (which there isn't, otherwise we'd of heard an extra few cannons,) we're all being featured, she must be thinking about the cameras. If she seems heartbroken, furious or upset she may lose sponsors for feeling weak in the Hunger Games, so she cocks her head up and gives a knowing smile the cameras are bound to catch. She unties her belt and refastens it around her waist, rolls up the sleeping bag and puts in her pack, jumps down and runs off. _Phew _I think, and waste no time in getting down to find some food. I'm famished, but I pull some bark off the trees, I didn't actually know you could eat it but in the training centre there were a few types of bark you could eat, it tastes awful compared to the capitol diet I've been sticking to the past week, but I'll adjust quickly I'm sure. I need water, that's certain, or I'll of dehydrated by tonight. Where to go? If I keep going, I might be a day's walk from water, there was a lake beside the cornucopia, but won't it be inhabited by anyone else? The careers and Peeta were headed away from the cornucopia, as was Katniss, but that still leaves Thresh, Rue and the district three male. Rue won't go near the cornucopia, it's too well known so that might cause danger for the little twelve year old, but Thresh is a muscley six foot five man who may or may not be up for going someplace he doesn't know. District three may still be there too. I'm thinking about him and his weapons when something completely unexpected pulls me up short out of nowhere. My district partner.  
He's dead, he died in the bloodbath. Why didn't I feel a thing last night? I barely knew him, it's just I'm the only district five tribute left, I kind of wanted us both to get down to the final few, in case I died he may go home, and his winning will benefit mine and Evanna's family. I wondered how he died, how long did he have in the arena? Did he die after a few seconds, literally being skewered before a minute was up? Or did he survive the cornucopia, and unfortunately met a tribute in the woods before the bloodbath was up? I guess I'll never know. I never knew him, but I stand still and silent for a second, and pay a final respect to him. I may of known his family, our business is butchery for district five, maybe they often visited to buy meat? We often halved our prices for friends, were they our friends? I can't think like this forever, I just have to survive.  
For now it's better to avoid the cornucopia, wait till a few more people are dead. I continue downhill, eating bark as I go, but my thirst grows as each hour passes – I find some berries but they do little to quench my thirst as my feet drag and I find it harder to walk. If I have sponsors, now would be nice to send we some water. I eventually sit down; the night is creeping upon me, so death isn't far away. My eyes slide shut when suddenly something lands on the ground with a _clunk _which forces my eyes wide open, my knife in hand but all I see is a silver sphere, attached to it a parachute. _My first gift_ _from a sponsor!_ With what little strength I have I claw open the sphere, hoping for water. Instead I find something so useless I want to scream, it's a compass. Why on earth would I need a compass in the arena?! My fists clench and anger builds up inside me until I look at it more closely. It doesn't look like any ordinary compass I've ever seen, I peer at the back as it reads something to do with water, I'm not sure, my sight keeps going blurry. Then I realise what it is, something made specifically in district four. A compass that directs the way to the closest source of water, but it's from district four, why would they send me something? I don't ponder this, as my thirst rules my thoughts currently so I follow it, north, east, north, west, south, north for hours – I end up dragging myself the last bit of the way – and am on all fours when I see it. A glistening surface of water, bright even when it's pitch black. The career pack could be right ahead of me, I don't care, I summon the strength to stand up and I legit to the water. It could be poisoned, there could be mutations inside it - I honestly don't give a damn. I stick my head under the water and take in as much as I can, paying no attention as it stings up my nostrils. I stay down for a while, but my face goes blue so I'm unsure if I am suffocating or drowning, or both. My head whips up from the water and my wet hair sits on my back. I gasp for air, but now I have to be sensible. I need something to contain the water, in case for some reason I'm chased from it. I didn't pick up anything from the cornucopia besides the knives, so I am at a loss for a container. _You can work it out tomorrow Foxy, go to sleep now _I tell myself. I climb a nearby tree as the anthem roars in my ears; only the girl who lit the fire was in the sky tonight, she was from district eight. I can't think about a single thing, as after I have strapped myself in, fatigue overcomes me and I slip into unconsciousness, the cool, crisp air having no effect on me.

**That was one of (if not the) longest chapter I have ever done! And one of my worst, I was stuck for ideas though – don't worry, I have plenty bubbling in my head now! I will see if I can post another chapter tonight, if not there will defiantly be another tomorrow! Please take thirty seconds from your time to review, even if you disliked it! I am always looking for ways to improve!**


	12. Chapter 12: Me, Rue and TrackerJackers

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS! I HAVE SOME QUOTES DIRECTLY FROM THE BOOK, THEY ARE UNDERLINED.  
END OF DISCLAIMER  
I thought writing about her everyday life in the arena would be a bit boring, so I've skipped ahead three days when the tracker-jacker attack took place. Bet you didn't know Fox-face was present at the time, did you? ;)  
Bet you also didn't know Rue made another ally before Katniss – one that only lasted a few hours, less than a day. But I bet you **_**can**_** guess who Rue made allies with (besides Katniss) ;) **

Five days in the arena, that's all it's been – yet home comforts seem so far off it's as if I've never experienced them at all. I'm surprised the Gamemakers have let it go on this long, the audience will surely be bored by now – there hasn't been a single death since that girl from district eight, so I'm particularly edgy – which of us will they collide together with one of their harsh traps? It's still dark out, they'll wait till every Capitol citizen will have woken up, which will roughly be about eleven, even so I have my knife in hand – waiting for mutations, tributes and prey alike to cross my threshold. I daren't leave the lake, my only source of water – going back to the cornucopia will be far too dangerous. My stomach groans but I daren't make a fire, though when I see a berry bush with berries I recognise to be from district eleven I eat them quickly before placing a load in my pocket, carefully not to squash them. Sitting around for a while doing nothing is no fun task, but it's also a scary one in the arena, even though I'm sitting up in a tree I feel like a sitting duck. Still, I have no other option – I am certainly not going against my plan of illusion and going to hunt tributes, so I stay in my hunched position waiting for any gamemakers attacks. I manage to get some sleep, not that it lasts long.

Smoke. That's the first thing I see rising from the other side of the arena when I wake up. Smoke. Smoke means fire. Who's going to be setting a fire at this time? Then I see it properly, like hundreds of fires placed next to each other going off at once, trees are on fire and flaming balls shoot out from nowhere. I hear screams, high pitched so I know it's a girl – who it is however, is undeterminable. This goes on four hours, and I flinch whenever another fireball shoots from nowhere, causing the girl to scream once more. I'm more frightened that the fire is coming here though; it's dangerously close to me – about ten metres or so, fifteen maximum. I breathe a sigh of relief though, this is a gamemaker attack – and it's not directed towards me. The fire creeps closer, but I have a feeling it'll stop around seven metres from my whereabouts. The girl's screams become fewer and the smoke thins, but this girl is cutting towards me in a desperate attempt to lose the fire growing around her – I hear her running to the lake. As soon as she's sure the fire is not pursuing her she stops, I can't see through these leaves but I hear her trip. A final flaming fire ball appears as the rest of the fire dies down; a scream comes from the girl higher and louder than any other – so I assume she's burnt in some way. She's not near me, but is resting in the lake, I swing round, holding onto my knife that I have planted in the tree, but the girl's back is to me. The only thing I know for certain is that this girl has been burnt on her leg, as she is soaking her calf and hands in a hole containing water about five metres away from my lake – and that it's not Rue; as this girl has light coloured skin.

I'm furiously trying to work out who this girl is, maybe district four? This girl has brown hair like district four's. The girl is just getting her things together, but fatigue has taken over her and she falls asleep, she's subconsciously muttering something unintelligible, but I think it's something like _"let them find me." _Them...well that will most probably mean the careers and Peeta, as no one else to my knowledge has made allies.

And find her they do – I hear the footsteps first, she doesn't wake. I throw a rock down (which is quite tricky, as she's seven or so metres away) which jolts her up, when she hears the crunching of breaking branches under foot she hoists her backpack over her shoulder and runs towards the lake, past my tree and scrambles up the tree next to me – I can see her face now. Katniss Everdeen. I feel furious! Can I not escape this girl?  
In desperate hope for her not to see me, I swing back around and melt into the trees as the careers come into view. She's still climbing the tree, and I can tell you she's pretty fast, like a rat up a drainpipe. The careers catch sight of her, they're mighty with muscles and weapons, and the only thing that brings them down a notch is that they're pretty beaten up.  
"Oi! Look! It's fire-girl!" District four grins, everyone turns their heads to Katniss, each of their faces light up in grim, nasty smiles – all except Peeta who looks as if he's trying not to show he's worried for her, that's probably the case - which despite my hatred for them makes me smile – he cares, he's in the careers for a reason, and that's not just to help pick off the weaker opponents.  
"Run, get her!" Roars Cato, and they all sprint towards Katniss – who is desperately scrambling up the tree. "We've got you now twelve!" Grins Clove, her face in a grim smile. Everyone shouts and jeers at her, though Peeta stays silent. Katniss reaches the top of the tree and shouts down, with a smile on her face "how's everything with you?" they looked shocked and degraded for less than a second "well enough" Cato replies in the same friendly tone "yourself?"  
"It's a bit warm for my taste," Katniss says, the capitol will be laughing so hard at this, not that it is particularly amusing, well, it is a bit. "The air is better up here, why don't you come up?"  Katniss asks, is she stupid?! Does she want herself to get killed?  
"Think I will" Cato says, taking up the offer.  
"Here, take this Cato" Say's Glimmer sweetly. I can literally see Katniss' eyes pop out of their sockets and her face turn red in fury. She's offering Cato a bow with a quiver filled with twelve sharp arrows – Katniss' secret weapon. "No," Say's Cato coldly, I can see the disappointment in Glimmer's eyes "I'll do better with my sword," He takes a long, curved sword from his belt and his smile grows grimly. Cato hoists himself up on the tree, but Katniss is too quick, she's already way above him but continues to climb netherless, I scrunch up small and stick close to my tree, hoping Cato doesn't spot me. Though I could be standing on the very top of the tree jumping up and down, none of them would notice – their all to focused on Katniss. Katniss is now only slightly below me on her tree, thirty feet higher than where she was, Cato falls before he can reach even half of where Katniss was – he curses as does the others, Katniss' lips curl into a smile as she say's "Anyone else want to try?"  
"Count me in fire-girl" Glimmer says, bow in one hand she scales the tree and Katniss begins to climb again. She's at least eighty feet high now, five feet above me. Glimmer reaches higher than Cato, about forty feet but the branches begin to crack beneath her she stops and loads her bow. She tries to shoot in Katniss' direction but it's clear she's awful with a bow and arrow – Katniss looks furious, probably because Glimmer claimed the bow and arrows without even knowing how to use them – but as the arrow misses Katniss' head she plucks it from the tree and waves it at them teasingly, her grin growing wider each time. Glimmer furiously jumps down, landing in a crouch and they all get together and I can hear them growling conspiratorially among themselves, trying to work out a plan to kill Katniss. Midnight approaches and they begin to get tired, there are less and less things they can do as night draws in but a voice domineers them all. "Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning." Well he's right about that, Katniss is going nowhere – which means I'm not either. I pick some bark and begin to chew it, but soon I'll need to drink. Panic overcomes me as I worry the careers may make their camp here, how will I get down? I look over cautiously and envy consumes me to see Katniss laying out her sleeping bag, she pulls her jacket on and belts herself in as I usually do – her expression looks agonizing, I can see her burns are taking their toll. I hear a rustle in the trees and a gasp right in my ear. I turn around; knife in hand to see Rue, sat on the same branch as me, roughly fifteen centimetres from me. Worry fills her face as she scoots away to deflect attack, but I just stare at her. I can't kill her, I just can't. I feel upset, sick and repulsed when I watch any death on TV, especially a twelve year olds' – but to do it myself...I would never be able to live with myself, killing a twelve year old. So young, so innocent. I could never do it. I look her up and down; she squints at me but doesn't put her arms down. I whisper so I'm barely audible "don't worry." I begin  
"I won't hurt you." She slowly lets down her hands and points above Katniss' head. I can't make it out, something circular and papery, I look at her in confusion and she taps her arm where our trackers where placed. What is that? Does she mean it's a camera? Some form of tracker? Then I realise.  
"Tracker-jackers," I whisper, she nods.  
**A/N – HERE IS EXPLAINING WHAT TRACKERS ARE, AS YOU SHOULD KNOW – FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS BIT, IF YOU'RE NOT SURE A) I AM SLIGHTLY WORRIED ABOUT YOU AND B) HERE IS THE DESCPRITION;** Tracker jackers are mutations of wasps developed in the capitols labs during the first rebellion, the dark days. They were placed all around the districts, when they sting you – the place where fear lives in your brain activates, and fears becomes a reality, living in an illusion. Living in a nightmare you cannot wake up from till it wears off, and that takes quite a while depending on how many stings you receive. Each sting makes a huge, plum-to-orange size green-pus-spewing lump, it's best to remove the trackers immediately – but even if you do other side effects besides living in an illusion, a nightmare, of fear, they cause searing pain even after the illusions wear off. They were all destroyed when the rebellion was over, well, the ones around the Capitol, the ones around our districts were left – another sign of our weakness.  
**A/N END OF DESCRIPTION. BACK TO THE STORY (Even though the description was still in Fox-face's POV)  
**Rue jumps silently onto another branch, I can't help but admire her, then I guess it's nothing special in district eleven, agriculture, probably spends about 95% of her life in trees. Her eyes, nothing more appear before Katniss, brave kid. Katniss searches them for a second, probably assuming their animals eyes, skunks or possums, then she realises it's Rue. Rue's hand finds its way out of the thick foliage without rustling a single leaf and she points to the tracker jacker nest. Katniss looks up and her eyes open wide in fear as Rue melts back into the tree. "Can I stay here tonight?" she whispers  
"sure" I whisper back. I don't think Rue would stick one of my knives in my back somehow, she doesn't seem murderous, or she wouldn't have warned Katniss about the tracker jackers. Rue settles on the branch she's on and begins to shiver, I feel for the girl and – though I'm chilled to the bone, and she has spare socks for gloves – I take off my jacket and put it around her. We're not exactly allies, I don't want allies, but for a night we are, for a single night we are unspoken allies, Rue jumps over to my branch and snuggles in my arms – proving she has decided, for the time being, to trust me. I put my arms around her, and this is the position we fall asleep in.

**My longest chapter yet! I hope you liked it!  
It takes you thirty seconds to review, maximum – and it really is amazing when I read reviews! Positive or negative please take thirty seconds max to review – I take hours writing this and all I'm asking is one quick review :) – It'll make all the difference! **


	13. Chapter 13: The Venom

** I ****DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS  
Hope you all like my**** story so far! Seven reviews already for my first fanfiction, not bad huh? Though before I get full of myself (which, believe me, I am NOT) let's see how you like chapter 13! ****And thank you everyone who has reviewed not just now, but when it was very first posted :) **

My chest and arms are freezing cold. That's the first thing I register – don't get me wrong, I'm chilled to the bone from head to toe, but the patch where I swear Rue slept in my arms across my chest are extra icy. I look over my shoulder while my eyes adjust to the light, but there's no Rue to be seen. "Rue," I whisper, her bright eyes are all I can see – no wait, a toe, an arm, talk about stealth. Her arm points to the tracker-jacker nest once more and I nod – put my finger to my lips, indicating silence, I stick my knife in the tree and swing round. I try to peer through the leaves without making a sound like Rue, but no such luck, the leaves rustle to one another as I look down at the careers camp. They're all fast asleep, though judging by the sun I'd say it was ten in the morning, Glimmer's propped up on Katniss' tree, bow in hand and quiver still slung over her shoulder, so I'm guessing she was supposed to act as guard but fatigue overcame her. I turn slightly to Katniss, who seems relatively alert and is already packing her things. She scales the tree up to the tracker-jacker nest _are you crazy? _I think, but then I see the saw marks – she'd obviously begun during the anthem last night. So that's what she's doing – she's going to send the tracker-jacker nest, filled with angry tracker-jackers, into the careers base camp. I've melted back into the tree when we hear a voice "Rue," It's Katniss  
"Rue," she repeats – Rue appears, wide-eyed, looking at Katniss. Her spindly arm for the fourth time points to the tracker-jacker nest, Katniss holds up the knife and gestures a sawing motion in the air, thus explaining her plan. Rue nods and leaves, staring at me "come," she whispers

"We need to leave now," she adds

"I can't"

"Why?"

That's a good point. Why? I can't tell her why, truth is I'm scared. I can climb trees like a squirrel, but leaping from one to another? I'd fall and break my neck, which would result in the careers or Katniss coming to kill me before I can regain my footing. Once more, even if I could I'd make so much noise the careers will wake and pursue us. I can hardly scale down the tree and run off – the careers may wake up and kill me in a matter of seconds.

"I'll keep an eye out, make sure everything goes OK, and then I'll go." It's as good an excuse as any. "Ok," she whispers, Rue then gives me a quick hug of which I happily return. I get a soft sweet smile of which I try to imitate from her, and then she's swinging through the trees like a monkey, one branch to another, making less noise than when I was looking through the leaves to see Katniss and the careers. The last I'll see of little Rue probably, hope she survives – well, a little while longer, I have to win. What on earth will I do if it comes down me to her? I shake the image from my mind – the careers will get her before that happens.  
I hear a soft buzzing sound coming from the tree next to me; I can tell Katniss has begun to saw. A louder buzzing follows – the tracker-jackers are waking. "Ow," I hear Katniss say, a tracker-jacker has stung her, I swing around with my knife still implanted in the tree, she's rubbing her knee with her free hand. "Ouch!" She complains, louder this time, she's been stung on her cheek – I begin to see it swell with a green-pus filled lump. The branch breaks free, but not before Katniss is hurt once more – stung on the neck. I need to get out of here, before a tracker-jacker, Katniss or a career alike see me – I swing around and jump to the next tree, landing with a thump. A tracker spots me, and before I can even blink I'm stung on the side of my nose – thankfully the others seem intent on killing the careers, or at least stinging them, for disturbing their nest. "To the lake! To the lake!" one of them is shouting, my head too foggy to register who. Most of them have the sense to drop everything and go, but Glimmer is desperately trying to bat them off with her bow – she'll be dead if she keeps this up.  
Green lumps over take glimmers body, this girl, once so very beautiful, is a bony, green heap on the ground – though no cannon has signified her death, though surely it can't be far off.  
District four screams fill the entire arena, she tries to follow the others to the lake but trips on a tree root – before she can regain her footing the tracker jackers have reached her and are fighting over what part to sting her. She represents Glimmer in a way, a pretty girl now a rotting skin-on-bones girl oozing with green pus – the only difference is the fact they have different coloured hair – and that district four's corpse gives up much faster – the cannon goes off and her eyes slide shut, her grip on the mud beneath her looses and her chest deflates – not going for another puff of air.  
Glimmers eyes are wide open, blood shot, but other than that she's dead to the world, her heart may be beating against the venom, trying to break from the coma, but someone will kill her if nature doesn't get there first. Katniss is scaling down her tree, my head feels foggy but my balance is fine, unlike Katniss – who has the strut of a drunken man – her eyes fixate on the bow. Glimmers cannon is still yet to fire, so Katniss scrabbles to her paralysed body and tries to work Glimmers tight grip off the bow – the bones crumble to dust in her hands and I can see how repulsed Katniss looks. Determination wins her out and Glimmers ribcage and spine crumble while Katniss retrieves the quiver. I cannot help but practically jump out of my skin when Glimmers cannon fires, and Katniss' speed doubles.  
Katniss has hold of the bow and quiver, but seems in a daze – her hallucinations have probably begun, I'm alright seeing as I've only received one sting, but soon I'll be clawing for reality I bet. Peeta runs up to her, wait, is that Peeta? Yes, yes it is. "Go! Go Katniss go! Get out of here go! What are you doing? Run!" He's yelling at her, but she's paying no attention, someone else is coming...Cato – "Loverboy! Knew you were traitor!" Peeta pushes Katniss "GO!" He roars once more, Katniss stumbles off – the last thing I see is Cato cutting Peeta high on his left leg.

I need to get down, or I'll end up falling. The tree turns pink, to blue, to yellow, to orange, back to pink, as I scale down it. The branches wobble and the earth spins as I cling to it for dear life – the hallucinations have begun. I claw my way across the ground, each tiny spider as small as an earring turns into a great Acromantula that stops over me – each slug curls around me like a snake trying to suffocate me – my own flesh begins to fall off. I had no idea the fear begun this quick.  
Its as if I'm transported to another world, Evanna is in the middle of the district, being whipped publically, I try to stop but they only whip my family as well – the more I scream the worse it gets, until finally a great knife like Clove's comes from the peace keepers jacket – and each of their throats are mercilessly slit. I scream but then a new illusion appears, the rebellion plays in my mind – except Rosie is a soldier for the rebels during the dark days. She gets shot, and I scream – which brings her back to life, only to see her skewered through the stomach – each time I scream Rosie is revived only to be killed in a new way – and though each time I tell myself to stop screaming, it's instinctive – I cannot help a high pitched scream lunge from the back of my throat. I screw my eyes shut, but they just play in my mind – she's poisoned, shot, cut, skewered, blown up and burnt alive more than I care to admit. The smell of her burning flesh becomes too much, and I am unable to scream – so the image stays there till her heart stops beating – then a new illusion takes place. And another. And another. Five, six, seven I lose count of how many times I watch my friends and family die, how many times I watch Glimmer's bones crumble horrifically, how many times I relive every tear I shed of every death from every Hunger Games I've been forced to watch, until my pettier fears take over – magnifying them thousands of times over.  
I'm torn apart by Acromantula, tracker-jackers sting me to death like Glimmer and district four, Cato slashes my windpipe open with his curved machete, all these repeat themselves in a never-ending cycle until thousands of tarantulas begin to burrow underneath my flesh, I open my mouth wide to scream but no sound emerges – I close my eyes, but when they're re-opened I'm not in the arena, I'm on the edge of a volcano.  
I black out just as my body falls in, burning flesh and rotting insides fill my senses.

**Sorry it's so short, I'll probably post another tonight!  
Please review, on average I spend 1 ½ to 2 hours writing a single chapter, and it takes – maximum – 30 seconds to review – so please, whether you liked it or not review! It really makes a difference! :D **


	14. Chapter 14: Career's camp

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES; ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZANNE COLLINS  
Told you I'd post another tonight ;) hope you like! **

I wake up in a daze. Sprawled out in the middle of nowhere, it's a wonder I'm still alive. I'm on my feet as soon as I'm fully aware of my surroundings – a clearing circled with trees, miles from where I was during the tracker-jacker attack. How many days has it been? Or, more importantly, how many deaths? I'm thirsty beyond belief, and hungry too – which means it has been at least a day. My fumbling fingers try to find my water compass, or what used to be my compass, all I find are some smashed parts of what it used to be. I sigh and begin to walk, munching on bark striped from trees as I go. I can't head based on the fact water runs downhill alone, I'm going to have to head for the lake beside the cornucopia.

I trek for hours on end, it's probably mid day by the time my thirst becomes, once more, unbearable. I find some berries, their ones from district eleven – I recognise them from training – and suck the juice from them, not bothering to chew the skins – so I fling them away. My thirst is still making my throat burn but is vastly improved by these berries.  
I'm sure I'm heading in the wrong direction for the cornucopia – I surely should be able to see its golden twisting tale by now. When suddenly _**BOOM **_I stop in my tracks. _Nine_ I think, _nine of us left. _It's been, to my best judgment, roughly eight days in the arena – yet I feel as if I have never lived anywhere else, living in a world where we just pick each other off brutally for entertainment of the Capitol. The feeling makes me sick.  
To take my mind off things, I try to picture what everyone would be doing now. Rosie would be looking for a job or helping out at home, mother would be making clothes to sell and father would be buying, selling or trading meat – maybe making it into sausages or steaks. Evanna will be in school, no doubt lonely without me sitting beside her, or has she made other friends? In thought that I may not return. I shake the image from my mind, she'd never do that.

My mind wanders elsewhere, from family to remaining tributes to the Capitol luxuries to Katniss and Peeta (scarily enough,) – even to Clove with her deadly, intimidating knives – anything to keep my mind off the burning in my throat signifying thirst. My hatred of the Capitol. That's when I see it, the gleaming, gaping mouth of the once blood-splattered cornucopia, bright golden and glistening in the sun. I'm mesmerised by it for a second, it's not what you'd call beautiful but it's probably the prettiest thing in the arena. I almost go running till I spot them. The gang of careers, minus Peeta, Glimmer and District Four, so more the trio of careers in their camp in front of the cornucopia. I would study them, but my thirst drives me insane I run through the sides of the trees to the edge of the lake – thankfully they've made camp the other side of the cornucopia, so they cannot see me. I dunk my head in and take grateful gulps, but as soon as my heads back out, my wet hair making an arch to my back, I run back into the trees and scale the first tree I reach, ready to observe their camp.  
The first thing I notice is a huge pile of goodies – food, water, medicine – everything in one great mound, the whole lot could keep my family going for a month. I grow furious with their gluttony – but only for a second, I have to keep looking. I dig my knife in the tree as I usually do and swing around to take a look at the actual tributes. Cato is standing around the pile of supplies – five or so metres from them actually. Clove is sharpening her knives, I shudder, I will sleep easier when I see her photo in the sky, Marvel isn't doing anything really, just sitting down and staring into space. Huh. That's hardly like the careers, not to be out hunting tributes to murder. Then I spot him, another tribute – certainly not a career. It's not Thresh or Peeta, so it's the only other male tribute left – the boy from District Three. What's Cato doing keeping a boy from District Three alive? There has to be a reason. I look at their supplies more carefully – it's out in the open, unguarded completely. No traps, no nets, wires anything. The boy from three and the supplies have to add up somehow, he didn't score well in training – only a 2. "Cato! I'm going to get some fruit, you want some?" Calls Clove, "Yeah," Cato replies lazily.  
"Oi, Three, what's the sequence again?" Clove asks. Sequence?  
"You can walk up to the third mound, then jump left twice, then forward once. Right three times and diagonal right twice. You should of reached the food by then, don't go behind the red line or you're blown sky-high." The boy from three explains - there's no thank you from Clove; she just begins to do a funny dance-like sequence to the food. She walks till she reaches a third muddy mound, then jumps left twice, forward once, right three times, diagonal right twice – then she's at the food. She grabs some oranges then reverses the dance back. "Good." She grunts, throwing Cato an orange. What on earth was that for? Then I begin to piece things together. District three is technology and around the cornucopia there are mines all around our metal plates – step on them and Capitol Citizens will be literally scraping pieces of you off the ground. But they're all deactivated after sixty seconds. Perhaps district three managed to dig them up, and reactivate them somehow? That's why he's been kept alive. He knows the trap sequence, he knows how they work if something goes wrong.  
Perfect.  
I repeat it to myself over and over in my head - _walk to third mound, jump left twice, forward once, right three times, diagonal right twice, don't step behind the red line _till I can remember it with ease. I just need them to leave, and then I've got tonight's meal sorted. Or even every night till the games end, and the medical supplies and water containers, sleeping bags, night vision glasses – and the weapons – oh the weapons. I'll be immortal practically. I just need a way to get them out of there! I can't do it while their asleep, they'll wake up. I could go start a fire somewhere, but I'd have to run to get back before they return, and given their healthy stature they'll realise it was a ruse and return before I'm back to my tree. No, I'll just have to stick it out and wait.

"Look! Over there!" Clove's shouting, pointing in the far off distance, district three, Cato, Marvel and I all look in that direction – smoke off a fire is wafting way above the trees as someone is making camp. "Let's go!" Cato grins, grabbing his sword – you can see the bloodthirsty lust in his eyes. Everyone except district three grabs weapons – Cato, another sword and a machete – Clove, six sharp knives that glisten in the sun and Marvel – three thick spears. I grin widely, this could be my chance. I could easy kill district three if he attempts to stop me, even throw him on one of the mines – there won't be a chain reaction, it'd be set so that the intruder would be killed without destroying the supplies.  
As soon as Cato, Clove and Marvel are out of range, racing each other and screaming "EIGHT, EIGHT, EIGHT," presumably meaning that once they've killed whoever started the fire, there will only be eight tributes left. I jump down from the tree, ready to kill district three but he's dozed off. I don't have the heart to kill anyone in their sleep; I'm sure the careers will kill him when he has served his purpose and become useless to them. I begin to slowly repeat the sequence. _Walk to the third mound _and so I do, _jump left twice _done it _forward once _I jump, I trip, I deflect attack from the ground as I'm sure to be blown to smithereens. In less than a second I say goodbyes in my head, but I manage to push myself back before I reach the ground. A second fire has started up; this is a ruse I bet. They'll realise this when they find the first fire abandoned, so I don't have long. I finish the minor panic attack I had when I was nearly blown to death and continue the sequence. _Right three times, diagonal right twice _and I'm there. There's a red line I'm weary of not to touch the ground surrounding it – that's obviously mined. I climb the pile of goodies; I can't take so much they'll notice it's gone. A few oranges in my pocket, a couple of knives in my belt, some dried fruit packets, a 2 litre water container and a box containing bread and cheese. It seems alot, but compared to the pile they'll barely notice it – I jump down and reverse the sequence back, then run, scaling up my tree.  
I sit there, desperately wanting to cram the oranges, cheese and bread in my mouth, though I'll have to be sensible. I hear a rustle four trees away, someone's climbing down. I try to look but cannot work out the identity of this person. Suddenly an arrow pierces a burlap sack containing apples, causing it to loosen. A second one hits it again, but it's still hanging on. It's obvious who this person is, and fury rushes through me and fear too. Is Katniss Everdeen stalking me or something? No, she can't be, she doesn't know I was above her when the district eight girl was killed, nor does she know I was with Rue during the tracker-jacker attack. Though I have to be careful, or I'll end up with her as the person I face when it comes down to the final two.  
She sends a final arrow to the burlap sack; I cling to the tree as a single red apple falls down slowly. For a second everything seems frozen in time, but I'm brought to my senses as the apple hits the ground. Mines explode, a great fiery uproar – I get the aftermath, the smoke up the lungs and the choking ash. But I see them, Katniss Everdeen and the Male District Three tribute, along with the load of supplies, get blasted backwards into the air.

Angry is an understatement. Mad is an understatement, heck; even furious is an understatement for how Cato reacts when he returns to shattered supplies and missing camp. The district three boy is cowering under the cornucopia. But his fear is short-lived, Cato chases him – at his speed district three's attempt to flee is pathetic – he grapples district three in a headlock, snapping his neck in two. The light is leaving his eyes just as the cannon fires, signifying his death.  
Cato's swearing blind, even Clove is cowering as he goes into a full scale mad rant that makes my head spin. Clove and Marvel try to explain something, they're pointing up in the air, I realise that they're saying that whoever blew up the supplies was killed in the explosion too – that the cannon went off during the mines exploding so they didn't hear it. Good. It gives Katniss a day to run.

The day is quiet – the careers move camp after this. The entire place is burnt ash and Cato is still blind with rage as they trek through the trees. I have a sudden gasp of inspiration. I rush down the tree and run to the ashes, and I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. The careers, in their attempt to calm Cato, and Cato's fury, have ignored the fact that there are still many supplies covered in ash. I pick up a backpack and begin to fill it, rolls, crackers, apples, it's sick how much they had, yet I fill my bag netherless. Water skins, pouches, plastic sheets, _a thing blanket! _I shove it all in, laughing as I go till I've picked the area clean of supplies – checking it over twice, three times, before leaving to fill up the water skin and both my 2 litre water containers at the lake beside the cornucopia.  
The night dawns and, as I'm filling the water skin, the anthem plays. District three male and District ten male's face's shine bright in the sky. I count how many of us are left, Rue, Thresh, Katniss, Peeta, Cato, Clove, Marvel and I – seven of us.  
I'm tired but going back to the tree, or any tree, doesn't seem safe anymore. After all the close encounters I've had I doubt I'll ever go near a tree without having a panic attack ever again when I get out of the arena. I can hardly make camp on the ground; no I need somewhere to sleep that's safe. It's as if a light goes off inside my head, I rush to the cornucopia and make a camp in its tail. I pull out the blanket I found, eat an orange and drink half a litre of water – sleeping soundly for the first time in the arena since Rue fell asleep in my arms.

**Please, Please, PLEEEEASSSSEEEE review! *Gets down on knee's and begs* pleaseeeee! **It'll take you about twenty seconds, and it takes me hours to write this stuff – please take a few seconds of your time to review, even if you hated it!


	15. Chapter 15: The Valley Song

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games, a****ll rights to the wonderful Suzanne Collins!**

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far, Dei-Dei Wolf-girl, India, ****zeagle7712****, Miss N Amber, Maysilee Donner7867, Guest and obviously boywiththebreadlover! :D  
On with the story, WARNING: VERY SAD, RUE'S DEATH IN FOXFACE'S EYES – Boy I bet you had NO IDEA how much of the action Foxface actually saw, did you? **

I don't wake till late – well, late for the arena, it's about nine in the morning when I regain consciousness from my only _warm _night's sleep in the past nine days. It's tempting to stay there, not to get up and snuggle down, but that's the kind of thing you just don't do in The Hunger Games – so I put my blanket in my backpack and guzzle down a litre of water and chew on a cracker. Who's going to die today? I'm more interested in knowing where the careers have set up their camp, seeing as they moved from the cornucopia last night – also how they're fairing now they're precious supplies have been blown to smithereens. I can picture them now, Clove killing a rabbit but having no idea how to skin or cook it. Cato being blind with rage as his stomach growls in hunger for the first time in his life, and even Marvel out hunting for food and tributes alike, though most likely coming up empty of them both.

I walk out of the cornucopia and fill up the remaining water bottles – it's all I can do not to laugh out loud – I never thought boredom was going to be an issue in the arena! There is practically nothing going on at the moment, no bloody battles or gamemakers attacks. It's actually oddly silent.  
I speak too soon.  
"KATNISS!" A young girl's voice screams  
"KATNISS!" She cries again. The plea wasn't meant for me but I can't help but feel sorry for the girl – who is clearly Rue. It cannot be Katniss, she wouldn't be screaming her own name, and it certainly isn't me or Clove. I can't imagine what's going on, perhaps a bloody fight with the careers? "KATNISS!" She calls once more, and despite the fact it has nothing to do with me I run in the direction of little Rue's screech. Her voice is hoarse as she makes out "KATNISS!" Once again – my speed increases, I reach a clearing when I hear a whisper, so loud it has to be close. "Ssh, Ssh Rue it's OK, It's OK you're safe now, OK" Katniss is muttering, I scale a tree and peer through the leaves to see Rue tied up in a net, squealing and in tears. Katniss draws a knife and cuts her free, but as soon as she regains her footing something terrible happens, I wish I'd never witnessed it.  
"Got you now!" Was the last words Marvel ever uttered – he leapt from nowhere threw one of his many spears, skewering Rue in her abdomen. She didn't make a sound, her throat dry and unable to scream. She falls to the floor in Katniss' arms, and before Marvel can kill Katniss in turn, he's pierced through the neck by one of Katniss' arrows. His cannon fires before I even blink. I have no idea what my expression looks like, I forget I'm on camera and feel as if I'm about to burst into tears that don't come. Katniss' looks as if she's fighting off sobs as she cradles Rue's head in her lap, "Ssh Rue, it's OK you're not going to die. We'll get you something," Katniss says, but her words are empty – it'd be unlikely to save such a severe wound at home, let alone in the arena. The silence stays strong until Rue whispers, her eyes gleaming with tears "you have to win, Katniss," The tears are coming now – threatening to spill over my eyes and splash against my cheeks. "S...Sing," Rue begs between sobs  
"sing?" Katniss puzzles, Rue cannot say a word but manages a nod – as Katniss breaks into chorus;  
_"Deep in the meadow, under the willow"  
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow  
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes  
And when again they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm  
Here the daisies guard you from every harm  
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
Here is the place where I love you. _

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away  
Cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray  
forget your woes and let your troubles lay  
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away_

_Here it's safe, here it's warm  
Here the daisies guard you from every harm  
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
Here is the place where I love you. _

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
here is the place where I love you._

A final breath of air, a smile on Rue's tear stained face – and the cannon fires, Rue's eyes slide shut and her smile drops, her grip on Katniss' arm loosens, she looks quite sweet. If it wasn't for the fact she still had Marvel's spear in her stomach she'd look as if she was sleeping. Katniss still refuses to show emotion to the best of her ability, but kisses Rue's forehead and walks away. She stops when she sees a white flower bush, and picks them all one by one – laying them around Rue – signifying a proper goodbye. The spear in her stomach stays there, so it can be carried from the arena forever, two hovercrafts appear in turn as each Mockingjay bird falls silent. Marvel's body is being lifted into the air and Katniss does the district twelve sign. It means respect, and goodbye to someone you love. Three fingers to the lips then stretched outward, it's a district twelve thing – but I copy it netherless, poor Rue. Katniss walks off, I can hear sobs as Rue's body is being hoisted up into the hovercraft.  
I sit there, traumatized over what I've just witnessed. It's awful on TV, absolutely disgusting. It makes me feel sick, my throat dries and I just want to sit alone and cry instead of fight back silent sobs.  
Watching it live is much, much worse.  
I don't care if the careers are right below me, or if a thousand peeved tracker-jackers are swarming above my head, this is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. I throw up over the side of the tree and break down into tears, I can't thing straight. She was so young, her death was inevitable, sure, but I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to hear her in pain, a twelve year old that's just learning about their district's business getting snatched away from family life to fight to the death. It's awful that any of us have to go, but for a little twelve year old...

I cannot control my tears, if a tribute came along and climbed up the tree I wouldn't have the strength to flee, or to fight them as they slit my throat, or stick a knife in me, or kill me any other way. Rue's screams torment my mind as if a fresh load of tracker-jackers have stung me "_KATNISS!" _I hear her cry, _"KATNISS!" _I just want it to be over. I stay there all night, Rue's pain and tears piercing through me like a dagger to my heart – Katniss' song getting choked up in my throat, the cannon firing signifying her death – and the loosened grip, dropped smile and the closed eyes that will never re-open.

I don't realise how dark it's getting, how hungry I am, and how my throat is dry with both caught tears and thirst alike. Before I know it the anthem is blasting in my ears and I almost fall out of my tree.

Rue and Marvel are shining bright in the sky, my drying eyes brim with tears as I see Rue, awake and alive, not smiling or happy – we have to have serious faces for our headshots, but alive. I nearly begin to cry again, but I can't, I have to stay strong. I imagine Evanna's face at home, and Rosie's, Mother's and Father's too – I can't reduce to a snivelling wreck over some tribute.  
I climb down and begin to walk back to the cornucopia. I'm not really hungry but I have to eat, so I force myself to have a roll and cheese, though they're both like glue in my mouth and gets stuck in my throat. I'm taken aback when I begin to hear trumpets blast from nowhere. An announcement? They'll be calling us to a feast, but why would there be a feast so late at night?  
"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a slight rule change..." Begins Claudius. A rule change? But there aren't really any rules in the Hunger Games except don't  
step off your circle until sixty seconds are up, there is only ONE victor and the unspoken rule of not eating each other. "If two tributes that originate from the same district are the last two alive, they may both be crowned victors." Claudius pauses for a second, as if he knows we're not getting it, and then repeats what he said again. Oh, nothing exciting then. Not for me anyway, Cato and Clove will surely be celebrating the new rule, I've seen how they act together and I'm almost certain that they're the real star-crossed lovers - Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark – Peeta must be delighted, but Katniss must think they're in a right mess, the false pretence they continue scares me. Or not. Before I know what's going on, I hear Katniss Everdeen, miles and miles away, call out Peeta's name.

**SORRY IT IS SOOOO SHORT!  
Please review, I will make up for how short this is I promise! **


	16. Chapter 16: The Feast

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS TO SUZANNE COLLINS – AS ALWAYS, ALL DIRECT QUOTES FROM THE BOOK ARE UNDERLINED.  
WARNING: VERY MILD SWEARING IN THIS CHAPTER (Crab, but with a p. OK, I don't know if you all class that as swearing, but for the few that do I'm just telling you) Oh, and all Clato shippers – there's a bit of Clato in here that I've devised ;) **

_Stupid girl! Stupid, Stupid girl! _I think, I'm sure career's will descend on her and kill her instantly. Or what's left of them, merely Clove and Cato now, they've been hunting her from the moment the bloodbath ended I'm certain – and now she's basically screamed "COME AND GET ME!" – Not "PEETA!"  
I've never felt so alone in the arena, I don't think anyone else has, you know? Thresh is alone too – poor Rue missing – but he's strong, he'll get over it. Though if I'm honest, I haven't seen him since the games began. The fact that people are pairing up, I miss human comfort – that one night I had with Rue may be the closest I'll ever get to home if I don't win this thing, and seeing as I am now the weakest opponent left – I have a feeling I won't. _Get some sleep, you can work something out in the morning _I tell myself, I need a plan to stop myself being the most vulnerable, or I will not only lose betters and sponsors, but also I'll be killed before tomorrow's up.  
_Get some sleep _I tell myself once more, I walk the final two metres to the cornucopia and sleep in its tail like the night before. Fatigue takes over me and I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the cold, hard, golden surface.

****THREE DAYS LATER****

**A/N - according to the Hunger Games wiki death timeline, the next tribute didn't die for another four days after Rue – so I've jumped forward three days! Everyone (if anyone at all) that felt sad about Clove's death, you may want to look away – as the feast's coming up! This starts as the feast is announced, which is the day before the actual feast takes place. Though please don't look away! I need (well, would like) your reviews! **

What must be going on? Three days and there hasn't been a single death, there must be something going on, something interesting at that – that's keeping the audience entertained and therefore they see no need to drive us together with harsh, sinister traps.  
Boy, I really need to stop making so many judgments – as I, once again, have been proven wrong.  
The trumpets start and finish just as quickly - "THE REMAINING SIX TRIBUTES OF THE SEVENTY-FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES" Begins Claudius Templesmith. I stop still – as I am halfway back to the cornucopia - to listen "First of all, I congratulate you on making it this far. I invite you to a feast tomorrow at the cornucopia." I shake my head, what's the point of going? I'm stocked up on food. "Some of you I am sure, are already waving away my offer – but you each need something, desperately – and we plan to be...generous hosts. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour," Claudius finishes, the trumpets blare once more then silence. What do I need? I have food, water – I begin to check everything as I go – my blanket – rolled up in my bag – knives – In my belt...wait, where are my knives? I tip my bag out there and then, I'm pretty sure there aren't any tributes around me. Food, check, water, check, blanket, check, knives, no...Not in my belt, nowhere to be seen. _Where could they be? _I ask myself, I last had them when I was in the tree, witnessing Rue's death. All three of them were implanted in the tree so I could swing around at different angles. _CRAP! _I think, I was so torn up I wasn't paying attention – and now they're implanted in the tree. Probably taken by Clove. I need weapons for sure, I'll die when it comes down to me and a final tribute, or two final tributes thanks to the new rule change. I bet that's what'll be there for me at the feast, a set of sharp, gleaming knives.  
I have to go.

**THE NEXT DAY :) **

At the cornucopia. That's where the feast is, at the cornucopia today. That gives me an advantage.  
I wake up at the crack of dawn, literally by my best judgment its six in the morning, the cool metal like ice against my flesh – I wrap up in my blanket for warmth. I sneak outside; there is a table with different packs on. They each say different numbers, _2, 5, 11 _and _12 _– so one pack either per person or pair. I wonder what the others need. Peeta was fatally wounded by Cato on the day of the tracker-jacker attack, but perhaps that was a little worse than I thought – perhaps its sheer luck his picture hasn't been in the sky. I'd of thought he'd of died while I was passed out in pain of my tracker-jacker hallucinations, but if he had Katniss wouldn't of shouted his name from a tree a few nights ago.  
Hours pass, I wish I could go out there and grab it – but we have to wait for the gong or, just like the sixty-seconds at the beginning of the blood bath, you're blown sky-high. I'm sure many have gathered now, and that the gong will sound any second, so I poise myself in a sprint position of which I stay in for half hour – I'm tempted to sit down, rest my aching muscles and wait until suddenly the clashing of metal fills the arena – the gong.  
No one else is even in sight when I've hoisted my backpack over my shoulder and sprint for the bag on the table. I grab the number five pack and sprint to the distance, I can hardly go back to the cornucopia – someone will come in and kill me. Just before I'm out of sight I see Katniss Everdeen giving me daggers from within the bushes – I suppress a smug, triumphant grin, she feels intimidated by me!  
I rush up a tree – clawing to the bark and retrieve my precious knives from the district five pack. Finding a glorious set of six sharp, gleaming knives. I stick one in the tree and the other five in my belt – I've spent half of the Hunger Games peering through trees – I stare at the battle. Clove is running for the district two pack as Katniss is colliding with the district twelve one. Clove pins Katniss down before either of them reaches their pack.  
"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" Clove asks  
"He's out there now. Hunting Cato," Katniss grins, then flings her head back and screeches from the pit of her lungs; "Peeta!" Clove whips her head round, expecting a fully recovered Peeta to come charging towards her and stab her in the back. When nothing of the sort happens, Clove's grin widens. "Liar, He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him.  
You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart  
going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad  
he'll never get it." Clove opens her jacket. It's lined with an impressive array of knives. She  
carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number with a cruel, curved blade. "I  
promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." Katniss tries to struggle but Clove absolutely flattens her. "Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally . . . what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" Clove's grin grows wider  
"Now, where to start?" She carelessly wipes away the blood from Katniss' wound with her jacket sleeve. For a moment, she surveys Katniss' face, tilting it from side to side as if it's a block of  
wood and she's deciding exactly what pattern to carve on it. Katniss attempts to bite her  
hand, but she grabs the hair on the top of her head, forcing her back to the ground. "I think..." She practically purrs  
"I think we'll start with your mouth, yes, you won't have much use for your lips any more. Want to blow loverboy one last kiss?" Clove asks, Katniss spits a mouthful of blood in Clove's face, and she flushes with rage. "Alright then. Let's get started" beams Clove; you can see the murder glistening in her eyes. Katniss' eyes screw shut and her hands ball into fists as she braces herself for the agony that's to follow. Thresh, tall, wild, muscley comes out of nowhere, the first time I've seen him since the cornucopia bloodbath. He grabs a kicking and screaming Clove by the neck and screams in her face "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" Clove looks frightened for the first time.  
"No! No! It wasn't me!" She pathetically squeals, Thresh's grip doesn't loosen though  
"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Thresh asks again  
"No! No I..." Clove begins, but her eyes fixate on a rock the size of a small loaf of bread that rests in Thresh's strong grasp and goes mad "CATO!" She screams, tears threaten to make an appearance "CATO!" She repeats, this girl, who was threatening Katniss Everdeen with a knife less than a minute ago, is squealing her district partners name in an attempt to be spared from death. "Clove," Cato replies, his voice shaking. He has clearly shouted but he is far too far away to do her any good. Was he lying in wait for Thresh or Peeta? Badly mis-judging each of their locations? Or maybe even me. I'll never know. Clove lets out a final screech of "Cato, please, HELP!" Until Thresh brings the rock up and smashes it against her skull. She's not bleeding, but there's a clear dent in her skull that proves she'll be dead in about ten seconds. She's panting fast, though unconsciousness is pulling her down, she's still screaming but unable to make out simple words – but I can tell she's trying to make out "Cato," as she's screaming "caaaaaaaa" Her eyes widen, blood shot and deep in fear. I see Cato stumble out of the trees and scream "CLOVE!" Until Thresh drops her to the ground, her eyes slide shut, her chest falls and the cannon fires.

Thresh is talking to Katniss, well, more demanding answers and debating whether to kill her or not. She's explaining how she never killed Rue, how she helped her and become her ally, singing to her till she died and how she cried for hours when Rue was murdered.  
Thresh stands there for a moment, conflicting emotions battling over his face, then drops the rock. "Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl. You and me, we're even then. No more owed. You understand?" Thresh demands, Katniss nods – understanding. "Clove!" Cato screams once more, running towards her.  
"You'd better run, fire girl," Thresh instructs, she scrambles to her feet and legs it in the opposite direction, and Thresh grabs his pack and rushes into some corn field.  
Before I know it, Cato is leaning beside Clove, hugging her and crying. "I love you," I hear him whisper, and I swear it doesn't surprise me. He wipes his tears, lets her hair loose to cover the dent in her skull. He rearranges her body so she sort of looks like she's sleeping. He kisses her once more as the Mockingjay's fall silent and a hovercraft materializes overhead. "I love you Clove. Rest in peace." He copies the district twelve sign, kisses her again then holds her hand till the hovercraft lifts her up.  
I'm not sad about her death, but I never thought I'd feel this sad about the reaction of a career.  
Ever.  
**Hoped you liked the chapter! One of my longest yet :D Please review!  
Whether you loved it, liked it, so-so, disliked it, hated it or think it's the biggest piece of junk you have ever read tell me! I love hearing (well reading) your reviews! :D **


	17. Chapter 17: Death of Thresh

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING SUZANNE COLLINS **

**Thank you all for reviews – It's truly amazing to read your opinions!  
I was thinking at first Foxface could over hear Peeta and Katniss, but I think Foxface has witnessed enough of the girl on fire – time to hear the side of the story from a few other characters ;) WARNING. CLATO SHIPPING. MEGA CLATO SHIPPING. **

I shiver as the night dawns. I can't return to the cornucopia, my time there has been spent. The blood and tears shed is awful during the bloodbath at the cornucopia, but the wounds are inflicted deeper as each tribute meets their end here.

I was complaining about home comforts and human love, but I doubt I'll be able to trust a single human being again once I leave. I always thought victors were stupid, wasting their lives away on alcohol or morphling, that they should embrace life now that they've killed others to continue it – but now I understand – the arena changes you more than you think, when you're watching it on TV all you're thinking is _their so young, _or _this is disgusting_ – more about what you're witnessing, never what the tribute is feeling – I barely understand it myself and I'm here.

There isn't a cloud in the sky as it gets darker. The anthem roars as I search for a place to sleep, and Clove's face glistens in the night – I can almost feel Cato's sobs.  
As soon as the anthem ends the sky opens up, and rain pours down thick and hard – thunder rolls and lightening hits a faraway tree as if it's been like this for weeks. It's barely a minute and I'm soaked through – I'll need a place to sleep or I'll get hypothermia. Trees won't do – as leaves will do nothing in terms of protecting me from the weather. I claw my way through mud as I'm blinded by the rain stinging my face – I was walking in the stream to cover my tracks, but everywhere is a stream now and it's been less than five minutes. _What's brought this on? _I wonder, but it takes me a second to work it out _Cato and Thresh. _For the Capitol, this surely is the final word in entertainment. Cato, who turns out was in love with his district partner, is a furious beast whom no one likes except those from district two, then there's Thresh – big, muscular man from district eleven who keeps himself to himself, and is intimidating my stature alone – and when Thresh kills Clove, Cato is obviously dead set for revenge – it'll be an amazing bloody drama when the two finally meet in the Capitol's eyes.  
For me it's as sick as usual.

I crawl through the muddy earth, slipping over and over falling flat faced into the slippery surface. I swear my eyes deceive me when I see a cave before me. I rush to it, desperate to get out of the cold stinging rain before I die and shoot in the cave.  
"I'll get you yet," I hear a mutter and the sharpening of a sword. I stop in my tracks and listen through my cave's walls – It's Cato. "You kill Clove, I kill you," He's hissing, his sharpening movements getting faster now – as does my heartbeat – he begins to eerily talk to himself "I will find you, I will cut you" He hisses, I peer through a crack and see him grin darkly – leap to his feet and begin to sway his sword around "You'll be as easy as you're district partner," He adds to no one, leaping to the side and skewering an imaginary figure "I'll kill you – and when I survive I will do all I can to make your family's life a living HELL!" He screams, his sword slicing the air at the word "HELL!" He drops to the balls of his feet in a crouching position "and even if I don't win. As I'm dead, I always was? Right? I will make sure you're my kill, even if you're my final kill. As now love is gone, murder is the only thing I know how to do," He whispers darkly – my breathing and heart rate go mad as I listen to his manic death cries. He laughs breathily and lays down on a blanket identical to mine – must have been one of the things he managed to salvage from the cornucopia. His eyes slide shut and I look away from the little crack and into my own dark, damp cave. My head replays over the madness of Cato and his little performance, Thresh is tall, dark, muscular and huge in stature – he gives a threatening appearance that reduced even Clove to frightened tears, and he can fight like anything.  
But after overhearing Cato – he'd better watch his back.

Cato mutters "soon...soon" In his sleep and I desperately want to rocket out of there, find a tree and never come down till the final – but the raining outside stops me. It takes me hours to get to sleep, the rock hard surface under the warm blanket I have gotten used to, I just find it disturbing that Cato is right opposite me, literally less than three metres. But eventually fatigue overcomes me, but only to taunt me with nightmares involving Cato, a machete and my chest.

**THE NEXT DAY ;) **

I fear for my life. I planned to leave as soon as I awoke and find somewhere far, far away from Cato and his murderous longing. But the rain falls thick and fast, impossible to see through the water wall. I'm trapped good and proper with a sleeping Cato on the other side of the cave wall I curl up in.  
My stomach growls, I'm not at all hungry but force a cracker and an apple down me along with half a litre of water – making sure I don't make a single chewing sound in fear of Cato discovering my whereabouts.  
I poke my eye through the hole I witnessed Cato plot mad revenge against Thresh yesterday; he's waking as my eyes adjust to the small change of scenery. "Clove..." He mutters, and I almost feel sorry for him when the pain on his face shows when he remembers that Clove's dead body is being cleaned and shipped in a wooden box back to District two. His pain sets into fury as he jumps up and grabs his machete – he heads for the exit of his cave, and I almost breathe a sigh of relief until he notices the rain, his face falling as even he knows that braving the rain would be an awful idea. I quickly draw away as he comes closer, but then returns to his original position.  
I have to fight off tears that I have no idea why they're even emerging. Wait. Yes I do. I want to go home, and I don't want anyone else to die. Not Thresh, not Peeta – not even Cato or Katniss – I want us all to go back to our families, wait no I don't – I want everyone who has ever competed in the Hunger Games to rise from the dead, I just don't want anyone to die other than a natural death.  
Ha! Wrong again, I desperately want President Snow dead, a new, fresh rebellion gleams in my mind as I picture him lying on a bed of white roses, the same as the one he always wears to cover up his hideous bloody breath, his blood spattered everywhere as his throat is slit. Or an axe is buried in his head. Or even an arrow in his heart.  
That stays with me somehow, as if that's the perfect death for him – an arrow in the heart, as he has shot one through every family in every district in one way or another.  
I cannot help fantasizing of a rebellion – all districts rising up and defeating the Capitol, a rebel, a leader, a new world with no fighting for survival just to eat daily - no tesserae – no poor, disease ridden people fighting in a lost world each day – but especially no Hunger Games.

I imagine this for hours, a leader rising everyone up and murdering the Capitol – with a weapon that backfired on the Capitol, a JabberJay for example. I almost forget Cato is right beside me practically, opposite me as we are separated merely by a wall until I hear a scream.  
"_YOU!" _Screeches Cato, my eyes automatically fixate through the hole, to see Thresh charging in – surely looking for shelter and oblivious to the fact that that one was occupied. Thresh says nothing as Cato begins "You killed Clove! Smashed her up as if she were nothing but a rag doll!"  
"She killed my district partner." Thresh states, not taking the bait for a fight that Cato dangles before him "This is the Hunger Games! She had to die!" Cato says  
"She was a child!" Thresh spits, getting louder this time  
"So? So are most of us here, just because she's the youngest" Cato roars  
"Me and her. We could have won, she stopped that. She had to die!" Thresh hisses  
"CLOVE SHOULD NOT HAVE DIED!" Cato's shouting now

"She was a piece of junk just like you. A murderous piece of junk that killed a twelve-year-old girl!" Thresh says matter-of-factly

"It wasn't even her!" Defends Cato

"You both were in league with her murderer, that's enough." Thresh states

"CLOVE SHOULD BE HERE BESIDE ME. HOW DARE YOU TAKE HER FROM ME!" Cato's losing his temper

"THE LITTLE GIRL SHOULD BE WAITING FOR ME; YOU ALL PUT A STOP TO THAT!" Thresh begins to shout too

"YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES!" Cato roars

"AND YOU SHALL PAY FOR YOURS!" Thresh screams, taking the bait like a worm to a fish.

Then the real fighting begins.

Thresh's fist curls into a ball and hits Cato in the stomach. He doubles over and Thresh pushes him to the floor. Cato stretches out, turns over and grabs his machete – going for Thresh's calf. Thresh screams and slips to the floor, giving Cato the advantage. Cato measly kicks Thresh yet it has no effect on him, tough as rock. Thresh punches his side and pulls out a curved sword similar to Cato's. He slits Cato's forearm, regaining his footing as Cato howls in pain. They circle each other, taunting one another  
"I DO THIS FOR YOU, CLOVE!" Screams Cato, looking up to the sky for a mere second.  
"HE SHALL DIE IN YOUR MEMORY, RUE!" Thresh retorts, looking up also before they continue to beat each other senseless.  
They drop the weapons for a while, and kicks, punches and head-butts fly everywhere – until Cato is wounded with a black eye and a dislocated shoulder, Thresh with bruises up his arm and two missing teeth.  
"LET'S FINISH THIS!" Hisses Cato, who grabs his sword and makes for Thresh's neck, the audience will be on the edge of their seat. Thresh ducks and flips Cato, when he's on the floor he kicks him in his manhood and delivers a fatal blow to the head with his sharp kick. Cato's eyes slip shut but his heart races against the blow, for the cannon refuses to fire. Thresh turns around and begins to sort through Cato's things as my eyes open wide in fear and shock. I almost scream "THRESH, TURN AROUND YOU FOOL!" But that'd give my game away. Cato's hand finds his machete, he stands up – peels off some head body armour - skin tight and invisible - and chucks it out in the rain, clearly only for one-time usage. He raises his arms and Thresh turns around, Cato's smile widens and Thresh's eyes open in fear. Before Cato drives the machete into Thresh's head.  
His screams will haunt me forever.  
The cannon fires as a lightning bolt scars a tree and Cato literally kicks Thresh's lifeless body out into the rain, waiting for the hovercraft. I feel sick and have to fight off tears as Cato will hear me. It's an absolutely disgusting sight – it may not be as sad, but it's certainly worse, bloodier and more painful to witness than Rue's death. Cato states proudly into the raining night "For you, Clove." Before setting up his night things and falling asleep.  
I cannot separate my emotions.  
I turn around, face down on the cold, hard surface and let emotion cross my face – but I have to fight off sobs, once I start I won't be able to stop. I have to rush outside and get my hair drenched as I throw up though, which is quickly washed away by water - throw up again as I see Thresh's body being lifted up into the hovercraft. The anthem blares before I'm back inside, Thresh's picture plays and I walk silently back inside. I dry my hair to the best of my ability and fall asleep, determined to do something other than sit in this cave tomorrow.

Sorry it's not very long – just over 2,200 words :/  
Hope you liked it, not to boring was it? Please review! :D


	18. Chapter 18: My Death, My Goodbye

**I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE BRILLIANT SUZANNE COLLINS – ALL DIRECT QUOTES FROM THE BOOK ARE UNDERLINED.**

**Goodbye everyone, well for this story anyway. As this is where it ends. But please, refrain from tears until the end – Foxface loves you all! As do I :) And her sad end will be recorded with a permanent history that you read before you – but with a twist ;) **

I wake and everywhere is bone dry. Not a single residue drip that shows record of the last two wet, lightning and thunder ridden days. Thresh's blood washed away as if he was never there. _Four _I think, _four of this left.  
_Time to take someone out of these games for good.

I peek through the hole of which I've been observing Cato, his breathing is slow and steady as he sleeps, constantly muttering "Clove..." I roll up my blanket and eat roll and some cheese, my supply is running low. Time to steal some more food.  
I drink a litre of water, leaving me with a water skin and two litres left, and eat my final apple as I walk. I look back on the murderous cave and shudder, and head in a random direction.  
I walk for hours, nothing interesting seems to be happening. If Cato or I die today, I have a feeling the remaining three will be pushed together – but if it is Katniss or Peeta, the only team left, die – I think they'll drag the games out longer. Wait for one of us to die then have a one-on-one fight for victory between the two remaining tributes. It's been sixteen days in the arena, yet I feel as if I've known no other life.

My thoughts turn to what I was thinking just before Cato and Thresh begun to fight – the defeat of the Capitol. They're all murderous monsters, for either celebrating or helping create the games. But somehow the fight has left me, I just want to break down and die – I think I'd probably get my hands on the first bunch of Nightlock I could see and swallow them if it wasn't the thought of my family and friends pushing me on back home. Surely they think I might actually have a fighting chance now I've made it this far?  
OK, so Katniss and Cato are still in the games – they're so strong they'll probably destroy each other, and if Peeta is so wounded even medicine brewed in the Capitol's labs that was surely in the D12 pack at the feast would only work to an extent. He'll probably lose his whole leg to blood poisoning, or at least the knee and below. I could take him down easily.

I could go home.

I walk for hours and hours on end, taking brief five minute stops every so often until I hear branches breaking under foot.  
"What?" A male voice asks, seeing as it's not Cato it's clearly Peeta, so he's talking to Katniss  
"You've got to move more quietly," Instructs Katniss  
"Forget Cato, you're chasing off every rabbit in a ten-mile radius" Katniss adds  
"Really?" Peeta asks, shocked, though he is pretty loud.  "I didn't know,"  
They continue and he is about a fraction quieter, but I can still follow them with ease using him as a guide.  
"Can you take your boots off?" Katniss asks, she's trying to say it politely but it's clear she's annoyed with him. "Here?" He asks in disbelief  
"Yes, I will too – that way we'll both be quieter," I nearly laugh out loud, she wasn't making any noise at all!  
They go on, but I swear he's purposely breaking every branch they come across.  
"Katniss we need to split up, I know I'm chasing away the game" Peeta sighs  
"Only because your leg is hurt," Katniss sympathies  
"I know," he says.  
"So, why don't you go on? Show me some plants to gather and that way we'll both be useful."  
"Not if Cato comes and kills you," Katniss says, I can hear she's trying to say it in the nicest possible way but it sounds as if she's calling him a weakling. She probably is inside.  
"Look, I can handle Cato. I fought him before, didn't I?" _Hah yeah and that went well_ I think "What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I hunted?" Katniss tries, but Peeta just mimics her patronizing tone and says What if you show me what's edible around here and go get us some meat?" She sighs and goes to argue, but he adds for cheek "Just don't go far, in case you need help."She gives in and show's him what's what. Lucky for her Cato's several miles away.  
I decide to follow Peeta, I've had enough Katniss Everdeen for a lifetime. He gathers Katniss roots at first and begins to smile, taking as many as he can of these. He grabs some nuts he finds and begins to strip some willow of its bark – finally he comes across a blueberry bush and strips it clean. He gathers his findings and places them where Katniss suggested he act as look out, they'd brought food with them so some cheese and rolls are laid out too. He goes to look for more as my stomach growls, I run and grab some cheese and blueberries – as soon as I'm far enough from sight I stuff the cheese in my mouth, savouring each mouthful.  
I go to pop a blueberry in my mouth but something on it catches my eye.  
It's darker than your average blueberry – purple even, and has a silver patch where the light catches on it. My brain instantly clicks, Peeta had no idea what he was picking, these aren't your average blueberry at all.

These are Nightlock.

_Brilliant! _I think, my brain working out a strategy in about three seconds. I put them back, they eat them – then it's me and Cato left. I run back to the cave and throw a knife at him through the hole I've been spying on him through and then I go home. Victor.

But something stops me.

My mind suddenly begins to piece together everything that has happened over the last few days – or in particular, the rebellion I continuously fantasize about. The hatred of the Capitol I constantly brew over. The glorious free world I dream of. I begin to analyse them more closely. The arrow I dreamed being pierced through Snow's body, the leader – a JabberJay, or even better a Mockingjay! The freedom of love and happiness, they all symbolize one person. Someone my unconscious mind has been pondering over since the Chariot Rides.

Katniss Everdeen.

Her weapon, bow and arrows. Her token, a Mockingjay. Love and Happiness, basically other words for Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. She's the perfect rebel leader.

But she can't be if she's dead.

Katniss Everdeen, the girl I have loathed since she literally out shone us all in the chariot rides, now just may be the world's chance of freedom. She and Peeta have to win, people will see hope in their love, they'll rise up on their own, and they'll appoint Katniss as their Mockingjay, their leader.

A Mockingjay, the biggest slap in the face the Capitol has ever known – as it is a hybrid, a creature they never intended to exist. Katniss Everdeen, a girl they never intended to rise against them will be far bigger than a slap in the face, and a thousand times more effective.

She needs to get out of here alive, not in a wooden box.

I try to think about how she could survive, how she and her fake lover Peeta can go home. Then I realise. I can only help one way.  
She's strong, she'll have Cato down with her bow in a matter of seconds – she outshone him in training. It doesn't matter what district you come from, that doesn't mean you're awful at weaponry – look at Katniss , nor does it mean that you're unloving and unlovable – look at Cato.

The only way I can help her is to take myself out as an opponent.

My family's and friend's faces can't change my mind, they'll be alot happier when there is no Hunger Games to speak of. I do a small part, yet I play a vital part.

I throw my head back, and begin my goodbyes  
"Goodbye my family – mother, Father, Rosie. Goodbye my one true friend – Evanna. I do this for you, for everyone. Katniss Everdeen will become a household name as she takes down this disgusting leader of our lives named President Snow. The flames have only begun to burn your rose, Snow! I swear I do this so Katniss and Peeta can live, and therefore one day bring you down."  
Only those watching live will have heard my speech, so maybe the rest of the world will think that I stumbled across the berries and ate them by accident. I don't care. Friends and family are forced to watch live, so they'll know.  
Tears don't even brim my eyes as I face death. It's not as scary as I'd thought it would be.  
"Goodbye." I speak loudly, I tip my head back, close my eyes – drop the berries into my mouth and swallow.

The last thing I hear is my cannon firing, signifying my death.

**I hoped you liked it!  
It was so sad writing the last part. Tears threatened to make an appearance to tell the truth, though I doubt it had that effect on you lot!  
This is my eighteenth and very last chapter. Please, for the sake of the rebellion, of Foxface's sacrifice and for my very first fanfic posted on here. Review! Miss you all, I am going to be writing another story very soon, I already have ideas bubbling in my head, it's a case of which to choose ;) ~KatnissMellarkD12 **


	19. Thank You :D

**Thank you :)**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed either once or several times over.  
Dei-Dei Wolf-Girl, Maysilee Donner7867, Zeagle7712, Miss N Amber, Guest and boywiththebreadlover thank you all so much :D  
Also thank you to those who have read, even if you haven't reviewed – as I can see how many people have viewed which chapter – So I know you've at least given my story a chance :) **

**Thank you again, and I hope you found Foxface's point of view from my point of view (:P) a great read, I certainly had alot of fun writing! ~KatnissMellarkD12 **


	20. Chapter 18 and a half: Alternate Ending

**Hey everyone! This is a little extra chapter (Well, huge, as I cannot string it out into many chapters,) on the request and idea of ****Maysilee Donner7867,**** an alternate ending where ****Foxface survives**** – but what about Katniss and Peeta? You'll need to read the final chapter – ****Chapter Eighteen: My Death, My goodbye****, for this to make sense – so please, if you want to read this don't just skip chapter eighteen. I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, ALL RIGHTS TO SUZANNE COLLINS. ALL DIRECT QUOTES FROM THE BOOK WILL BE IN ITALICS Oh, and another thing – sorry. Katniss and Peeta don't see her body being lifted in the air like they do in the book, they find Foxface – just so you know :). **

I drop to the floor instantly, the cannon still ringing in my ears. But shouldn't I be dead? Isn't that the whole _point_ of the cannon firing? To signify that my time is up?  
_So why is my heart still beating?_  
I kept my eyes tight shut and laid still, listening before the hovercraft takes me. Footsteps draw closer. "Peeta, look!" I hear Katniss exclaim – they run closer to me, I hold my breath and am careful not to move a muscle. "Climb. He'll be here in a second. We'll stand a better chance fighting him from above." Peeta says as soon as they both clasp eyes on my 'dead' body. "No Peeta, she's your kill – not Cato's." Katniss explains. Technically I'm not anyone's kill, suicide. But I'm still_ alive. _"What? I haven't even seen her since the first day," he says. "How could I have killed her?" Katniss says nothing, but the small gasp that escapes Peeta's mouth proves to me that she has some berries, and is showing them to him in answer.  
She takes her time explaining my death to Peeta – I'm quite flattered if I'm honest. How cunning I was to realise the potential pattern of the supplies around the careers camp, and how I took only enough that'd be unnoticeable. How she'd even considered allying with me, but thought it'd only result in a knife in her back (which infuriated me to say the least, OK, so she had to die, but I was going to wait till the final few.) Even how that I wouldn't question the safety of the berries if it looked as if they were going to eat them too. Well, she's got that completely wrong – It's so tempting to correct her I silently dig my nails into the earth, hoping that they're not looking down at my 'corpse.' I hear them talking, but they're walking away – so I let out a long-held breath, feeling the colour return to my face.  
"I wonder how she found us," says Peeta. "My fault, I guess, if I'm as loud as you say." I daren't open my eyes yet, but I'm sure she's fighting off an insult – they were about as hard to follow as a herd of cattle. "And she's very clever, Peeta. Well, she was. Until you outfoxed her." Ha-ha, outfoxed – fox like till the end. Or what's supposed to be the end.  
"Not on purpose. Doesn't seem fair somehow. I mean, we would have both been dead, too, if she hadn't eaten the berries first." He checks himself. "No, of course, we wouldn't. You recognized them, didn't you?" He's right there, they'd of died if I hadn't swallowed the Nightlock. "We call them Nightlock," Katniss explains, I can practically_ feel_ Peeta shudder  
"Even the name sounds deadly. I'm sorry Katniss; I really thought they were the ones you picked."  I'm sure she's grinning  
"Don't apologise, just means we're one step closer to home, right?" She says, Peeta goes to get rid of the rest but she stops him. "Wait!" She exclaims  
if they fooled Foxface, maybe they can fool Cato as well. If he's chasing us or something, we can act like we accidentally drop the pouch and if he eats them —"  
"Then hello, District Twelve."  
A hovercraft materializes above me, and I begin to panic. "Let's go," Katniss says – but they only go a few metres, just out of my sight, and I can hear them decide to make camp.  
I open my eyes, adjusting to the bright light, I roll to my side and leg it across the threshold, desperate to escape the hovercraft that will neaten me up and ship me home, dead and in a wooden box, to district five. I stand by what I said before "Katniss and Peeta _will_ win." I hiss  
"There will be no more hunger games, even if it's not for decades to come." I add, scaling a tree.  
I can't fall asleep, adrenaline rushes through me and my heart pounds loudly against my ribcage – I need to protect the 'star-crossed lovers from district twelve,' I barely know them – and I hate Katniss Everdeen, but I feel as if it's my duty.  
I force down some bark and water, the anthem plays above my head and sure enough, my face flashes wildly in the sky.

**A/N. doing a quick little insight here to what's going on in the gamemakers minds, so this is now (until the next A/N) In SENECA CRANE'S POV.**

"Show me her tracker again!" I hiss, Jessica Robert's tracker's profile flashes before me. DEAD 20:53PM. DAY SIXTEEN. THE HUNGER GAMES. RANKING: FORTH. DISTRICT FIVE.  
"Impossible!" I screech as my hand curls into a fist. While Jessica's tracker states she's been dead for an hour, she's before me as I watch the Hunger Games live – her face blank as she stares at her image we've projected in the sky.  
"Bring me her family," I order, perhaps they have some explanation why Nightlock hasn't killed our suicidal and dangerous, rebellious tribute.  
"But...But sir they're in District five. It'll take days for them to reach us by train..." Someone stammers "WELL GET THEM BY HOVERCRAFT!" I roar, they run off while I puzzle at the screen. "Anyone have an explanation?" I ask, there isn't a single answer.  
"Set them into the final between District two and twelve. Drive them from the water source, if five wants to get involved then fine – we can broadcast that the tracker system is faulty tonight to the audience. The remaining tributes will have to go unawares," I sigh – the trackers aren't faulty, but it'll divert the blame from me, who knows – I might be able to keep my head.

The hours tick by and it's shown to the audience that Jessica is alive, and I wait impatiently for the hovercraft to return. I'm beginning to lose my mind "It's been eight hours! How long will this Hovercraft take?!" I scream, slamming my fist against the table. As if on cue, a hovercraft materializes outside and I hear crying women come along the corridor.  
"Mrs Roberts?" I ask as they come into view, a woman nods.  
"May I ask if you have an explanation for _how_ your daughter has survived swallowing a bunch of Nightlock?" She looks up from her tearstained rags then, as does another woman who can be no older than twenty. The man behind them, who has red puffy eyes from tears but is the only one not crying into a cloth, jerks his head, his expression changing from distance to alert. "FoxFeatures is..._alive?"_ Asks one of the women.  
"Miss Roberts?" I ask, she nods.  
"Yes, Jessica is alive. But our system says she is dead, but if you look before me, she's asleep in a tree currently." I point to a screen which shows a girl with ginger hair in a bun asleep in a tree with her head between her knees.  
"Jessica!" Exclaims Mr. Roberts, but quickly shuts his mouth.  
"Ou...Our Jess. She's always been different. Always. In the way her system works. She's allergic to many things you see, can't go near normal things such as the common Amaryllis flower, but can dare to go near things that would kill one in a second. That includes Nightlock, her system accepts it like ours does blackberries – I've never told her. She ate them once, found them on the side of the road. I was so worried, but it had no affect on her," Mrs. Roberts explains.  
Great, an explanation.  
Damn. Another problem.  
"Thank-you." I say  
"You must be tired, I'll have accommodation set up for you, you'll be taken home tomorrow night." I add wearily  
"Th...Thank-you," Says Miss. Roberts between sobs.

"Now what sir?" Asks Atala, head of the training centre.  
"Dry up the water sources except the lake besides the cornucopia." I sigh.  
Let's finish this."

**A/N GREAT. :D  
Back to Foxface's POV :) **

I was unsure what had happened at first, then yesterdays memories came flooding back to me.  
_Why didn't I die. _  
I rub the still-bleeping tracker under my skin for a moment – trying to grip reality.  
I jump off the branch and down the tree – best part about knowing you're not going to make it in the arena – don't have to be quiet, or cautious.  
I finish off my water and jog to a stream to fill the bottles back up. Or what used to be a stream, now just a dry, gaping mouth. Not even a little damp.  
Fears of a dry, cracking tongue fill my head and I begin to panic – I'd rather stick my own knife in me than die of thirst.

I take up a slow jog, heading in the direction of the cornucopia. That's known to us all, so that's obviously going to be the place where water lingers. A bloody fight to the death is a cert when we all reach there. Lucky for me, the element of surprise is on my side.

I reach the cornucopia at nightfall and fill my bottle and drink the contents thirstily. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark stand around idly, so I do what I've been doing pretty much during the entire length of the Hunger Games – climb a tree – and wait for Cato to show up.  
We're waiting for hours, it's the dead of night and I'm tempted to just fall asleep right here and now – when a loud scream fills the arena, and a frightened Cato comes charging from nowhere. Katniss tries to shoot an arrow at him, but he's wearing some kind of armour.  
Katniss and Peeta are shouting to each other, but pay no attention to the horizon. They can't hear me, but I'm shouting at them to save themselves – as great wild mutations, dirty, evil wolf like things that have rabid red eyes and wild hungry mouths that contain a full set of sharp, bared teeth appear from nowhere – baring the faces of tributes long past.

Including me.

I'm frozen in fear as Katniss and Peeta notice the mutts and begin to follow Cato's "Run and Scream" method, heading towards the cornucopia. Cato, Katniss and Peeta climb the great golden horn and reach the top of it, Cato's mumbling some garbage to them.  
"WHAT?" Screams Katniss  
"He said 'can they climb it?' " Explains Peeta – well we're about to find out, aren't we?  
The mutts get on their hind legs and support each other to follow the three tributes, but turns out they're not built for climbing it.  
Peeta's wound's been re-opened, that much is clear, as he's lying on top of the cornucopia and seems in great pain. Katniss looks away for a second, but in that second Cato has scooped up her district partner and has him by the neck in some kind of headlock, cutting off his air.  
I can barely hear them, even if I am less than ten metres away, over the growling mutations – but I manage to listen in.  
Katniss readies her bow but Cato just laughs. "Shoot me and he goes down with me."  
He threatens, and he's got a point there. Cato's dead if he lets go of Peeta, either because Peeta's going to go stumbling into the furious mutations or the fact that he's no longer holding any threat against her. She continues to point her bow, trying to figure out a loophole in the situation. Cato can't kill Peeta without guaranteeing an arrow to his brain, and Katniss can't kill Cato without killing Peeta too. Peeta's lips are turning blue. If she doesn't do something quickly, he'll die of asphyxiation and then she'll have lost him and Cato will probably use his body as a weapon against her . In fact, I'm sure this is Cato's plan because while he's stopped laughing, his lips are set in a triumphant smile.

Peeta reaches down to his wound – soaking his finger in blood. He weakly raises his shaking arm and draws a feeble X on Cato's hand. _Of course! _It's truly genius of Peeta, sending Cato into the mutts without dragging Peeta in with him. Katniss quickly picks up on what's going on, and shoots Cato's hand, releasing a panting Peeta and dropping him into the mutations. Katniss catches Peeta and he lays down, catching his breath. She quickly takes off her jacket, though it's freezing out here, and wraps it around Peeta's leg – using her final arrow to make a tourniquet. There is no blast of the cannon, no howls of pain as Cato's clawed to death by mutts. He's fighting, his sword out and stabbing each mutation, a large pile growing at his feet.  
"Cato may win this thing yet," She tells Peeta – she's right – Cato could outlast the mutt's, Peeta die of blood loss and Katniss will surely commit suicide over it, surely she will. But I'll be fighting, they don't know I'm alive, I'll be fighting and I swear, with no one left to value my life over in here – I will kill Cato with the element of surprise that sits by my side.  
"Don't you believe it," A weary Peeta demands, his voice ragged.

The next passing hours are surely the worst of my life, murderous screams coming from both dying mutts and a feared Cato alike. The night pierces me, it has surely been twelve hours but the day refuses to break. I wince each time I hear Rue's mutt's dying cry, or Thresh's, even my district partner's. I sigh in relief the fact it's over each time Cato screams, but no cannon cries and more mutts begin to die so my fear recharges all over again.  
"Why don't they just kill him?" Sighs Katniss  
"You know why," Peeta explains_ yeah, because according to the Capitol this is the final word of entertainment_ I think.  
The sun rises, and I can see Peeta's bloodless face, his nearly lifeless body. He needs Capitol treatment. And fast. Yet no cannon has fired, Cato continues to battle the mutations.  
"I think he's closer now Katniss. Can you shoot him?" Peeta asks  
"My final arrow is in your tourniquet," She explains, he whips it out for her and she takes it, the light is slowly leaving his eyes as his torn voice says "make it count."   
She falls over the side of the cornucopia and pulls back her arrow, letting it fly and returning upwards before she can see if it hits her.

No cannon fires.

I can see the worry in their eyes as they cradle each other in their final moments together. _NO! _I think _THEY'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DIE_ something has to be done.  
Before I have time to formulate a plan, I jump down the branches of the tree and run straight into the mutations. A few snarl, but most are intent on murdering Cato.  
I'm about to fling a knife into Cato's brain when I'm caught by a rabid mutation that jumps me, wild teeth bent on tearing my apart.  
I turn and flip, screaming in pain "Foxface." I hear Peeta mutter, knowing that they must have thought it was one of my mutts that had died.  
My finger nails claw its face and I kick it backwards into the air, I go into a crouch and stare down the mutt. That's when I get a good look at its face.  
Black, scruffy fur like the other mutts – but the tributes face marvels me. Sleek ginger hair, a white face scattered with freckles, small lips and a weird nose – she looks OK actually, even if all the features sound odd. Bright red eyes and sharp white teeth that surely are the mutt's qualities bare the girl's features. The mutt reminds me of an animal.

A fox.

_It's me. _I think. I am literally battling me as a mutt, blood trickling down its/my face from where my nails have scratched it.

Ha. I never thought I'd kill myself this way.

I begin to run towards me, and it copies me – its teeth bared and ready for attack. I pull out one of my knives and fling it, it catching it right between my eyebrows. My screams, coming from the mutt, fill the arena.  
Now for Cato.  
I spear my way through the hundreds of mutts, I can hear Katniss whispering "stay with me, Peeta," and he replies with not words but an "mmmmm..." I don't have much time left.  
I see Katniss' arrow, snapped in half from where it's been broken underfoot, so I know I must be close. And there I see a screaming, bloody Cato with sweat dripping off his forehead battling hundreds of mutts.  
In pity I flick my wrist back, set my sights on his temple, and throw.

The cannon fires so quickly his attempt of survival is feeble.

The light fully dawns now, as if it was midday. Maybe it is in the real world. I hear Katniss' and Peeta's sigh as they climb down off the cornucopia. The dead mutt's disappear into thin air and the remaining mutations run off into the forest. I hide next to Cato's corpse, shivering not because I am cold but because I'm so traumatized it'll be a miracle if I ever recover.  
"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games" Begins Claudius Templesmith, his great booming voice coming from nowhere.  
"Good luck for the victors that remain. May the odds be ever in your favour," he adds, then fades out.  
"What does that mean?" Asks Peeta  
"It means their earlier rule change has been revoked." She says, panic crosses her face.  
_NO! _ I think, _IT MEANS ME, NOT YOU. _I can hardly go charging out there, they'll go mad.  
"If you think about it, it's not that surprising," says Peeta, who hobbles towards Katniss in slow motion. His breathing heavy, hand curled around his knife.  
Katniss whips up her bow and points it at his head, but Peeta just throws the knife away. Katniss looks embarrassed and chucks her weapons to the side too "No. Do it" He begs, but she shakes her head. "I can't. I won't." She states  
"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he says, pain shining in his eyes. The two of them argue over who's to die endlessly – until Peeta pulls off his bandage. "No Peeta! You can't kill yourself!" She sobs  
"Katniss, It's what I want." He says softly.   
"Listen," he says "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me." He then begins to burble about how much he loves Katniss and how little there is for him without her, but she seems dazed, thinking of other things. Katniss' fingers fumble with the pouch on her belt containing the Nightlock she'd collected beside my 'dead' body, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on her wrist. "No, I won't let you." He says firmly. "Trust me," She whispers and hands him a pinchful. _There's no point,_ I think _they won't work. _But I feel myself panicking all the same. "On the count of three?" Suggests Katniss, and Peeta nods, understanding, leaning down and kissing her gently "the count of three." He repeats  
"Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he says, and she does. They hold hands with their free hands, as the other holds berries, and they stand back to back.  
"One." Peeta says  
"Two." Katniss breathes  
"Three." Peeta finishes.  
They both hold the berries to their lips and place them in their mouth – but the frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. "Stop! Stop!  
Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth  
Hunger Games," He sighs – "Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District Twelve. And Jessica Roberts from district five!"  
Me?

ME?

They are including me, because they threatened suicide, why weren't they letting me be the only victor?

Not that I'm complaining.

I walk out of the cornucopia, Katniss and Peeta look around, I hear them both whisper. "Foxface..." I laugh -  
"Hi." I breathe, they look at me – dumbfounded. But their stares leave me as a hovercraft materializes, Peeta is first to board – then Katniss, I follow shortly after.

Silence follows me around, Katniss and Peeta out of sight.  
Evasion really was the key, I have no major injuries, even so – someone comes up to be and injects me with a purple liquid, causing me to pass out.

**Ok, crappy ending – but I wasn't sure how to end it.**

**Did you like the alternate ending?  
Did you hate it?  
Was it an amazing piece of writing and you loved it?  
Was it OK?  
So-so?  
The biggest piece of junk you've ever read?**

**If it's any of these or anything else...Tell me! I love reading your reviews :D **  
**Bye, hope you liked Foxface's story, and another side of her. ~KatnissMellarkD12 **


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